All Bets are Off
by Northofsomewhere
Summary: Shifting POV. Ashley makes a bet that leads her to the one person who can change her life. Spencer is at a crossroads with her overbearing mother and somethings got to give. Will they be able to handle the possibility of love?
1. High Stakes

A/N: I'm giving a disclaimer on this one already at the start of the first chapter. It's going to be much more angsty and less flufftastic that Post Grad. The concept is also possibly going to be slightly offensive, so don't pull any punches. I need the feedback to figure out if I should even continue with the story or just scrap it all together and cut my losses early.

Ashley POV:

I wake up to a pounding headache. The familiar stale taste that fills my mouth makes me wonder exactly what the hell I was drinking last night. As I open my eyes and see the naked form in bed next to me, I wonder exactly who the hell I was doing last night. I certainly don't remember her name and barely remember what happened.

She stirs and all I see is a mess of bleached blonde hair, before my eyes connect with her face. She's the typical sun kissed California girl I usually wake up next to. I have a weakness for blonde hair and blue eyes and she appears to have both, even if her roots are dark. This particular girl gives me a warm smile and I feel nothing.

"Morning Ashley," she mumbles and places a kiss on my mouth.

Still having no idea what her name is I respond with my standard, "Morning, babe."

She seems pleased by this, so I hop out of bed and begin to collect the clothes that are strewn all over the room and toss them on the bed. The girl is smarter than she looks, because she picks up on my not so subtle hint and gets dressed.

"Rise and shine precious," Madison announces as she walks into my room without warning.

I thought after the number of times that Madison had walked in on me in precarious situations she would have learned to knock. No such luck this morning.

The blonde kisses me on the cheek and takes this as her opportunity to leave.

"Call me later?" she questions.

I give her a nod all the while knowing that I won't. I don't remember her name, ergo I have no idea which contact to dial in my phone to reach her.

"Jesus Ashley. Put some clothes on already. Not everyone enjoys watching you walk around naked," Madison grumbles as she shields her eyes with her hand.

"No, I think it's just you," I retort.

I throw on a pair of jeans and tank top while Madison stands there holding her hands over her eyes like she's waiting for a surprise.

"Some of us are not into women," Madison reminds me as she removes her hands from her eyes.

By "some of us" she only means her. Madison likes to throw this fact in my face because of how we met. It was two years ago before I made it big. I was on tour and opening for a fairly well known band. She had backstage passes we had an instant connection, probably because we both like to party and don't put up with bullshit.

That night we both got drunk. I mistook our immediate connection for a little more than friendly and when I attempted to kiss her, she smacked me. It was the first time that had ever happened, but all I could do was laugh. Luckily, she had a sense of humor about it and we became fast friends. Once I dropped my debut album, I asked her to be my personal assistant, figuring she was about the only one in my life with the balls to handle that role. The rest, as they say, is history.

"Whatever, Mads. If I stopped flirting with every girl who told me she was straight, I'd get laid a lot less," I quip. "I'm just that good."

"Prove it," Madison challenges, resting her hand on her hip.

I stare into her green eyes and see that she's serious. I run a hair through my hair in an attempt to tame my wild curls, but they just fall back to the same chaotic position as before.

"Fine. What's the bet?" I ask as I walk into the bathroom and start brushing my teeth.

Madison follows me and leans against the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest. I notice her cocky smile before she begins to speak.

"I get to pick ten single straight girls from an online dating site and you have three months to sleep with all of them," Madison explains.

I spit the foamy toothpaste into the sink and rinse out my mouth as I contemplate her challenge. Ten seems like an extremely high number.

"I know I've been a bit of a slut recently," I admit.

"A bit? I don't even bother knocking anymore because it doesn't matter. There's always a random in here," Madison snaps.

She's right, but I negotiate, "Three. You can pick three girls."

"Done. I will even let you use my picture, seeing as your not exactly under the radar, superstar," she remarks.

I'm working on my trademark smoky eyeliner now and glance back at her in the mirror while I slam her with, "Mads, I'm trying to get with HOT chicks. I don't know if using your picture is going to accomplish that."

"Good luck trying to score with that charm," Madison says with an eye roll at me.

"So, what's at stake?" I ask. "I know what I want."

Madison searches her brain for a second and replies, "If you don't succeed, I get the Porsche."

Not my baby! I love my car more than most of my closest friends. I can't believe she thinks she's going to get my car. I've noticed her eying it up in the past and she is always quick to seize the keys from me. I think about the bet and decide that since I already have a reputation for breaking in straight girls. What's three more?

"All right. And WHEN I win, you get to tell Ethan that I won't be doing a tour with the launch of the upcoming album," I declare.

"Woah, wait a second. Have you forgotten that I'm your personal assistant and not your manager? I don't have that kind of authority. I'm just the messenger," Madison objects as I breeze past her.

Our conversation continues in the kitchen, where I pour myself a cup of coffee. I've known that Madison and Ethan been secretly dating for almost a year now, but they have to keep it under wraps so it's not seen as a conflict of interest. It's that exact conflict of interest that I plan on leveraging right now.

"You've got the power of the punani. You are sleeping with him, so yeah, that kind of gives you something better than 'that kind of authority'," I remind her.

She sighs in defeat and caves, "Fine. We've got a deal. I'll get the profile up and running by the end of the day."

Spencer POV:

After my last class of the day, I can't wait to succumb to bed gravity. My roommate Chelsea unlocks the door to our dorm and I grab my laptop from it's usual spot on my desk and prop it on my lap as I lay in bed.

I check my Yahoo! Account and see that I have a few new emails, one in particular from my mother. I don't know what the fuck she wants now, but I'm not in the mood. I open it anyways, figuring this day already went to shit, so there's no sense in putting off the email for a better day.

With a few clicks of my mouse, I see to my horror the worst email I may have ever read.

**Spencer,**

**I hope school is going well for you. You remember the Bridges from church? Their daughter, Jeanie just got engaged. She met her fiancé on one of those online dating sites for Catholic singles. I know what your thinking, but I know that you must be lonely being so far away from us. I figured this would at least be a way for you to meet some nice boys and maybe one of them will develop into something more. **

**I set up a profile for you today and the logon information is below. I'll be working a double shift tonight, so I probably won't be back until later. I will be off on Saturday if you want to call me then. **

**Love,**

**Mom**

Now I remember why I go to UCLA. It was the only one of the schools that I applied to that was part of what I like to call the Paula free zone.

I had always been more interested in my studies than dating during high school. Still, I managed go on a date with a guy here and there, with no real success. Junior year of high school, I took an Introduction to Film class to satisfy one of my general requirements and learned a lot more about myself than classic movies. While watching Rear Window, I learned that I had an uncontrollable attraction to Grace Kelly. I also developed a crush on this girl who sat next to me, Jonica.

Jonica came over one school night so we could watch a movie and write a paper for extra credit. Let's just say that we didn't do a whole lot of watching of Casablanca, but we're busy getting a little extra credit of our own, when my mom burst into my room and lost her shit.

I was still dealing with the way I felt, so I lied. I wasn't sure then, and am still not completely sure how I feel now. Both guys and girls are still attractive to me and I haven't had a whole lot of experience sexually. Anyhow, I sure as hell wasn't going to come out and I told my mother that it was just an experiment. Part of me knows that she never believed me and she had every right not to, but she was so blind in her religious views, that she chose to accept the flimsy lies I told.

Since then, she's been acting like my personal matchmaker. I know that I'm going to have to be honest with her someday, but I needed some distance first to figure it all out myself. And I also need a really good reason to say the one thing that I know will destroy my relationship with her permanently.

After finishing the email, I am livid. I don't want to log on, but then I know my mother better than that. I need to log on to do a little damage control. So against my wishes, I sign in to the site.

I read through seven different emails and find out that this is actually pretty freaking hilarious. The profiles of the guys shirtless taking a picture of themselves in the bathroom mirror are priceless. Before my mom has the chance to log on and completely destroy my life, I review and delete the bombardment of emails. I stop at one user who didn't have a picture sent me a message. Captivated by the subject line: Help Me!, I open the message. I'm half expecting a good laugh and that it's going to say: Help me find my heart. I think I just lost it to you.

Much to my surprise, I immediately find something much more intriguing.

**You seem like a normal girl. Full disclosure, I am not a guy. I am a female college student at USC and am looking to do an interview with online daters for a paper. You'd really be doing me a huge favor! Message me back if you'd like to meet up to discuss. I'll even pay for a cup of coffee while I interrogate you about the horrors of online dating.**

**Ashley**

This had been the best offer from the site so far. Feeling a little ballsy and as my own version of fuck you to my mother, I typed my two sentence response back:

**I'm in. Where do you want to meet?**

**Spencer**

I couldn't hit the send button fast enough.


	2. Misconceptions, Meetings and Macchiatos

A/N: Thanks for the encouragement reviewers! Now I know who to blame when I should be doing something more productive with my time than writing FF, ;-)

Ashley POV:

Madison sets the laptop on the coffee table in front of me and announces, "We have another one!"

I grin and watch as she pulls up the page. It's only been a week since Madison and I agreed to the terms of our bet. It wasn't pretty at first because Madison didn't tell me that she was going to use a Catholic singles website. When I heard that, I almost went and got a keychain with her initials engraved on it for when I handed over the keys to the Porsche.

So, maybe I overreacted a little initially. After that little shocking piece of information, I decided to be a little more hands on in my approach. I decided not to use any pictures and I even figured out a way to make what I am doing not quite as reprehensible.

I have been taking part time classes as USC to get my bachelor's degree in Music Composition to help with my songwriting. As much as I hated the few years I spent high school (my music career meant a GED at 16), I've always wanted to have the college experience. With touring, it's almost impossible, but I was able to have a very flexible academic schedule due to my unique situation and generous charitable donation.

For my Modern Living and Leisure class, which is a joke of a general education requirement, I decided to write my paper about online dating. Hence, the ability to not be a total liar when I meet the girls on this site. Madison, although she is excited, is starting to get worried. I already got with the first girl from the site in less than a week. One down and two to go.

I click on the link for the new message and wait for it to load. The message loads and the response simply reads:

**I'm in. Where do you want to meet? Spencer**

"Madison, you dumb twat," I reprimand. "You sent a message to a dude. This response is from some guy named Spencer!"

Madison looks over my shoulder and begins to disagree, "No way. I never sent anything to any guys. Click on the link to get to the profile.

I do as instructed and am floored. Spencer is 1) Definitely not a dude and 2) a certifiable ten. Madison knows my type well and she could not have picked a better choice. I contemplate on saving Spencer for last, but I realize I need to meet her as soon as possible.

A girl named Spencer. Now that might just be a name that I can remember.

"I take it all back, you are the smartest person on the face of the planet!" I yell and tackle her onto the couch and into a hug.

Madison contagiously giggles like a school girl, which makes me start too. Her laugh is uncharacteristic of her fiery nature and it still surprises me when I hear it. After getting it together, I dismount her so I can return to staring at the computer screen, trying to lock in every detail about Spencer. The picture is from what I assume is her high school graduation and she's wearing a cap and gown, but it's unzipped and you can see that she's wearing a floral print skirt and tight ruffled tank top. I stare at her legs which look like they never end. Even though it's not a close-up of her face, I can tell she is stunning. I'm drawn immediately to her rich blue eyes and full pouty lips that are formed in a warm smile. I can't wait to feel those lips as she trails the hot kisses down my body.

"Do you need a napkin for that drool, pervert?" Madison teases over my shoulder.

Absently, I wipe at my mouth. No, I wasn't actually drooling but I think Madison is a Jedi mind trick instructor sometimes.

"Good work, Mads. She is hot!" I praise and take my eyes away from the blonde goddess for a minute so I can type the email response.

**Does Exceptional Joe's on Melrose work for you? How about ten on Saturday?**

I quickly send off the message and go back to Spencer's profile. Her headline generically reads: New to LA, looking to meet new people.

All I can think is I want to introduce her to my body. I continue to read the rest of her profile, which turns out to be rather dull. Nonetheless, I find myself looking at that picture the following day like an obsessed stalker. It's a little ironic considering my celebrity status, but I can't stop myself.

By Thursday, I get a message from her confirming that she will be at the coffee shop on Saturday.

The words in the profile don't seem to match that carefree smile and I have to figure out why. I have to meet her. How can somebody so gorgeous be so boring on paper? It's impossible. I can't wait until Saturday arrives, but once it does, I wake up with a gigantic smile on my face. There's just one little problem. I'm actually nervous. I am never nervous. I play sold out arenas of sixty thousand people live and I still have never been this nervous.

As I lock my car, I pray some paparazzo doesn't spot me, because I might kill the person who dares to interrupt any conversation I have with this girl. I specifically chose this place because it's off the radar and the staff is used to having me around, so it's not a big deal when I come in for a coffee.

I enter Exceptional Joe's and see Spencer sitting a table close to the door, but not right next to the window, thank God. She is even more breathtaking in person. As I approach, I realize I'm falling for this girl faster than a mob informant falls into the East river. Spencer sees me and tries not to stare, but that's usually how people look at me when they realize who I am. I continue to take steps up to her and casually slide in the seat across from her before my knees give out in weakness.

Spencer POV:

I arrive at the coffee shop called Extraordinary Joes. It doesn't look extraordinary from the outside, but I soon see that inside it's really awesome. I got here ten minutes earlier than I was scheduled to meet this Ashley chick, but I score a caramel macchiato and find a seat at a table for two that's close to the door in case this is a giant mistake and need to make a run for it.

Clutching my pepper spray underneath the miniature table, I silently wait. Time passes as I take an occasional sip from my drink and curse myself for not asking for a picture of this person. Not like it matters if the potential psychopath forces me in the big white van after I help him/her load a couch. I don't want to spend the rest of my life hearing the phrase, "It puts the lotion on it's skin or it gets the hose." I really need to stop watching Silence of the Lambs when it's on TNT.

While I'm thinking disturbing torturous thoughts, the most breathtaking creature on the face of the planet walks in to the coffee shop. No exaggeration. I know I shouldn't stare, but I can't help myself. It's not everyday a mega hot rock star walks into a coffee shop, even in LA. Yet, Ashley Fucking Davies live and in person strolls into the coffee shop taking a look around, before her gaze stops at me. Her body sways as she approaches and casually she sits in the chair across from me like she's my best friend.

"Are you Spencer?" Ashley asks.

Why the fuck is Ashley Davies sitting across from me and how does she know my name? I just sit clutching my pepper spray in my hand under the table, realizing it won't be necessary. Or maybe it will be. After my eyes focus on her presence, maybe I should just blast myself and call it a day, because it can't get any better than this. My mouth is slightly open in shock as I try to formulate my response. She looks at me and although I've seen her image thousands of times before, nothing is like what I see in front of me right now. Her brown eyes are rich and expectantly waiting for my answer. Ashley gives me a faint smirk, knowing she has me tongue tied. It's been at least two seconds of silence since she asked…what did she ask me again?

"What?" I finally spit out.

"Are you Spencer? I sent you the message about the online dating thing," Ashley states matter-of-factly.

As if she isn't a world famous rockstar, she pulls a pen and piece of paper from her gigantic Louis Vuitton purse and sets it on the table in front of her.

"Yeah, I'm Spencer. You're Ashley Davies," I tell her, like she doesn't know who she is. I'm such a dumbass.

She chuckles at my comment and I think my heart stopped beating. "I am. And I'm a little pissed off that you won't let me buy you a cup of coffee," she jokes as her eyes focus on the cup in front of me.

"Sorry. I got here earlier and there's really no need for you to buy me a coffee anyways. I have my own personal reasons for doing this," I explain while trying to hold back the contempt I feel torwards my mother and her evil plan.

Ashley raises an eyebrow at my mysterious response, but doesn't probe further. "Do you mind if I go get one, then?" she asks.

"No, go ahead," I tell her and watch as she exits the table.

Holy ass! Yes, I am currently in awe of the butt on that girl as she walks away. She places her order and begins to check her phone as the barrista makes her drink. I tear my vision from her glory and return my energy to fidgeting with the protective cardboard sleeve on my cup, which bores me after eight long seconds. Thankfully, because I have the attention span of a three year old, I remember that I'm still clutching the pepper spray and set it on the table so I can put it back into my purse.

"Woah, if you changed your mind about the interview, you could have just said no. There's no need to get the pepper spray involved," Ashley comments as she slips back into her chair.

"Oh, I was just going to put it in my purse," I stammer. "I didn't know what to expect."

Everything about her presence is making me second guess what I say, but I take a deep breath and try to calm down. Ashley rests her cup on the table and I go to reach for the pepper spray, but feel her hand rest on mine. My first thought is to recoil, because the feelings awakened inside of me from her touch are unsettling.

"No, you can keep it out. If the paparazzi see us, I might like to give them a shot with it," Ashley teases.

Her eyes glance to where her hand remains on mine and she hesitantly pulls it away. We get started and she bombards me with a bunch of questions about why I joined and any date activities so far. I confess my whole story. Every last word. How I moved here from Ohio two months ago to go attend UCLA. About how I am unsure of how I feel and my overbearing mother's involvement. I tell her about the one date I went on so far with some nimrod who expected me to sleep with him at the end of our date, which was mediocre at best. Then I remember who I'm talking to about one night stands and pause abruptly.

"What's wrong?" Ashley asks.

"Nothing," I say. "It's not like I'm a prude. I'm just a bit of a romantic, so…" I trail off, hating every word that comes out of my mouth.

"So you don't have one night stands that end up being fodder for the tabloids?" Ashley finishes with a playful smile.

She picks up on everything I left unsaid and I feel the blush cover my face at my words. The last thing I want to do is insult her and I'm afraid I did just that.

"My stupid mouth," I apologize lamely and look away from her intent stare.

"Don't worry about it. Your mouth isn't stupid. It's very…kissable," she concludes.

Before I get carried away by her obvious flirting, she continues back to the subject we were on prior.

"I respect the fact that you don't rush into sex. It's true that I've had my fair share of one night stands, but I still believe there's a possibility for great romance. I just don't know if it's meant for me. Maybe things would be a lot different for me if I knew what love was," Ashley softly claims.

"You've never been in love?" I ask innocently and meet her gaze. I want to ask her a million more questions, but stop at that.

Now I see a flash of crimson splash across her cheeks and it causes a fluttering in my stomach that I haven't felt in a while.

"No. Have you?" she returns.

All I can do is grin like a moron, because she is reading me like a trashy novel. Without speaking, I shake my head 'no' and watch as her brown eyes seem to sparkle a little at my admission. After a moment of uncomfortable silence where there was enough sexual tension to cut with a knife, I decide to change the subject to what I remember from her email.

"You go to USC?" I half state and half question.

"Yeah. It's my first semester. I'm working on my bachelor's in music composition. Nobody knows about it, though. I made some arrangements so that I don't have to show up to classes, but still get credit by meeting with the professors regularly and completing my assignments. It's frustrating because the whole point of me taking college classes was to get the college experience and I hate that I don't have it. I want to show up to my lecture hall hung-over and live in a dorm and eat at a dining hall."

"Lecture halls have fluorescent lighting and stairs which don't mix well with hangovers. Dorms involve public bathrooms and showering in flip flops. And just trust me on the dining hall, you're not missing out. But if you really want to try all that, why don't you just go like a normal student? I know it will probably be crazy at first, but people will get used to you being there," I offer.

Ashley sighs and informs me, "See, I need to go there so I can learn those horrible things on my own! I would love to be a regular student and it's not being recognized that prevents me. It's my crazy schedule. My manager and my label are pressuring me to finish my third album as soon as possible. Apparently, they are afraid that it would be impossible to keep my career afloat if I don't tour non-stop and instead go to school."

"That sucks. What are you going to do?" I pry.

Ashley shakes her head and admits, "I don't know. Everybody thinks that being a celebrity means that you have all this power. And sometimes, I feel like I do. But mostly I feel less in control of my own life than I did when I was ten."

I let out a sniff at her response, because my mom still makes me feel the same way. The farther I go to escape her suffocating rules, the deeper she manages to dig her claws into me. "I know I'm not a celebrity, but I totally understand what you mean," I say and leave it at that.

This whole conversation has been surprising. We have been talking for about forty five minutes, but I realize that she stopped writing in the notebook after I was five sentences deep.

"Are you going to write in that thing or am I just not saying anything of interest?" I tease, looking at her notebook.


	3. And three makes a triangle

Ashley POV:

"Are you going to write in that thing or am I just not saying anything of interest?"Spencer calls me out on my lack of note-taking.

She seems pretty studious, but her comment makes me aware that I'm doing a piss poor job of looking like I'm collecting the information for my paper. I completely forgot about the bet until I realize I should have been jotting down notes. When I'm around her, I don't even remember the bet. I still fantasize about sleeping with her, just not under the terms of the stupid bet.

"No, you intrigue me, Spencer. Usually, I'm never interested in what people have to say, but I get good at faking it. Most of the time, people want me to talk," I respond.

I can't believe I just told Spencer that I suck at listening. I am never this honest with anyone. What is this girl doing to me? Get it together Davies.

"With you, it's different," I quickly add. That was so not smooth. This Spencer chick is all under my skin. I can't wait for her to be all over my skin. Dammit head!

"How so?" she inquires, cocking her head slightly to the side with a smile that leaves me thoughtless.

I take a sip of my coffee as I struggle to come up with non-idiotic way to answer her question. I can tell that she picked up on my hidden meaning in my earlier comments about my fame. While Ashley Davies the rockstar, may have millions of adoring fans, Ashley the person can't seem to keep anyone around for a long time.

The more famous I get, the more I realize people are only ever interested in my alter ego. I don't know how to explain this to Spencer, but decide to try it anyways.

"I can tell when people are just talking to me because I'm famous. Most people are like that and I don't want to waste my time getting to know people who don't want to see the real me. But with you, I feel like you see the real me," I explain.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Spencer asks timidly.

"Yes, these are my real boobs, contrary to what the tabloids say," I reply, giving them a squeeze to lighten the mood.

Any cheap tricks I can use to have Spencer looking at my breasts, I will use. She does draw her attention there briefly before laughing, but locks her gaze with mine. She takes this as an opportunity to continue and inquires, "If you had a real online profile what would your headline be?"

"Hmmm. Looking for warm bodies and cold drinks," I say with a confident smirk.

"No, I don't mean the Ashley Davies that comes with a reputation. I mean the real Ash," she stops at my nickname.

She's clearly referring to the earlier comment about the real me versus my persona. Still, it's rare and dangerous for someone who just met me to use my nickname. Normally, I hate it, but the way Spencer says it makes me feel like it's the first time I've ever heard it. I can imagine myself coming home to the sound of her saying my nickname every day for the rest of my life.

In my silence, she looks away, afraid of what she just called me. I fight the urge to smooth out every crease on her face and capture her lips with my own and tell her not to call me anything else but Ash. It surprises me to feel this way about someone so quickly after just meeting them, but there's a part of me that knows it's okay to let this girl in.

"I don't know if there's anyone that would really want this version," I decide on telling her.

It's the truth that I've been hiding for a while now. Not even Madison knows I feel this way, although I think she suspects it. Just one look from Spencer and all my walls come tumbling down. I've shared more with her in this hour long conversation than I have with anyone else. I've never been so drawn to someone or wanted it not to end so badly. Her personality is nothing like that on her profile and I know now it's because those were her mother's words and not the real Spencer.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. I'm sure there is someone right now who would want this version," Spencer returns and I see something in her eyes that makes me wonder if maybe it could be her.

Honesty spills from my mouth like the half and half some tool just unleashed onto the counter nearby, "I don't know. My headline would probably say difficult but worth it?"

"I like it," she agrees. "I think you are totally worth it. You're not at all what I expected."

"Really?" I ask her self consciously. "What were you expecting?"

"Honestly?" she questions back at me.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Spence," I encourage.

Oh, snap. I guess the nickname thing is a two-way street now. I notice her face lights up as soon as it falls out of my mouth, which triggers a chain reaction of giddiness throughout my body. I'm nervous to hear her response, but at the same time, I really care about what she has to say so I silently wait for her answer.

"I was expecting to you be one quarter diva, one quarter womanizer, one third bitch and a little bit cocky to top it off," Spencer informs me.

"Most of the time, that's pretty dead on. But you must be lucky, cuz you got the better version of me. Must be the right combination of meds today," I joke.

She laughs, then scrunches her face and retorts, "Oh, so you think this is the BETTER version?"

I love the fact that she's already putting me in my place with a little friendly banter. Nobody other than Madison busts my balls and it makes me like her that much more.

"Well, it can't get much worse, so yeah," I joke.

Spencer's face falls at my self depreciating humor and she reaches for my hand. "I don't care what version this is, but I like it a lot," she decides on telling me.

Before I can think of anything remotely coherent with her skin on mine, I see her glance at the clock on the wall behind me.

"Ugh, I have to go," she announces retracting her hand from mine. "I have a study group that's meeting in half an hour."

No! She can't me leaving me already. Forever is not enough time when it comes to this girl. I'm dying to feel her touch again, so I come up with the first lame excuse I can to grab her hand.

"I will let you go on one condition, Spencer," I challenge, catching the hand she's trying to free.

A smirk makes it's way across her face and she chides, "Oh yeah? You'll LET me go? What's your condition rockstar?"

"I still owe you a drink," I remind her. "So how about if we meet up for drinks later tonight?"

Coffee does not contain a strong enough drug to make the butterflies in my stomach rest. I need something more potent than caffeine, like alcohol. Getting Spencer a little drunk wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe then she won't notice me undressing her with my eyes. Maybe then I'll get to undress her with my hands.

"Can't," she informs me dryly.

What? Nobody ever says no to Ashley Davies. I'm losing my gift!

"Can't or won't?" I ask for clarification, but disguise it with my trademark cockiness.

"Can't," Spencer repeats. "I have a date tonight with some hottie from the website that my mom set up."

I can hear the sarcasm in her voice and even that is sexy. I start to pout, hoping I'm making it look more endearing than pathetic. Either way, it seems to work as a faint smile is replaced with her shaking her head in defeat or disbelief. I can't tell which.

She looks nervous and gives in with, "I wouldn't want to be the first person in the world to tell Ashley Davies no. It will be all over Twitter before I reach my car, I'm sure. Tomorrow night?"

My lip retracts from it's pout and forms my confident smile, before I lose all control and give her a full blown nose crinkling smile. So much for playing it cool. I cover up my giddiness with a subtle, "It's a date then. And Spencer, you're not so bad for a Bruin."

She chuckles and returns, "I think that might just make you the smartest Trojan I've ever met."

Spencer POV:

Holy shit. Did Ashley Davies just ask me on a date? I've read the magazines while I'm checking out at the grocery store and it's pretty obvious she is out and proud. And proudly out with woman after woman after woman. How can I possibly go from closeted semi-straight very confused girl going on a date with a guy tonight to a hot and steamy lesbian affair with a rising pop sensation tomorrow night?

Woah, Spence. Reign in the crazy, I tell myself as my thoughts run away to someplace very dirty and very unrealistic. After all, Ashley may have a bit of a reputation, but that doesn't mean she wants to get me in the sack. Not that I would mind, I mean if it's going to be my first time with a girl, it might as well be with somebody who has some serious experience and a smoking hot body. Don't even get me started on her touch. My hand is still tingling as it waits for her touch again, but it's unfortunately going to have to wait until tomorrow night. Still, I can't help myself from thinking about her on my drive to my study group and during my entirely useless group study session.

It's only until I start getting ready for my date that my mind starts to untangle itself from the thoughts of Ashley. The email from my Catholic single stud tells me to dress comfortably and wear sneakers tonight and provides me with an address, which I Google because I'm still not very trusting. I find that my first date with my online connection, Aiden, is going to be putt-putt. Cute. On the drive there, my GPS on my cell phone is interrupted by a text message from Ashley.

**Meet me at my place tomorrow at six? Have fun on your date tonight, killer.**

I decide to wait to text her back because I don't want to look too needy and also don't want to get into an accident while texting and driving before my weekend of big dates.

I park in a spot in front of the putt-putt place and immediately see who I believe to be Aiden standing in front waiting. Beefcake looks better in person than online. I exit my car and give him a friendly smile.

We exchange an awkward hug hello and he holds the door for me as we walk inside. Inside, there is an arcade and kids running around on sugar highs that we weave through to get to the cashier.

Aiden pays for our round and grabs the balls provided and puts them in my hand before opening the door to the course outside.

"Take care of my balls," he teases.

I laugh and say, "Is that why you brought me here? So you can use that stellar line?"

"Hmm no, I actually just thought of that one all by myself. But I'll have you know I'm a little old fashioned so those are the only balls of mine you'll be touching tonight," he returns with a wink.

What a relief! And a bit of an insult! I am however a shameless flirt, so I do what I do best.

"Really, do I give off the slut vibe?" I ask. "Maybe I wasn't planning on touching your balls tonight."

Aiden flashes me a toothy smile, knowing he's already in my head and clarifies, "No slut vibe at all Spencer! Just a girl who looks like she might be good with balls!"

"You might want to save that trash talk for the putt-putt course because I am a bit of an athlete," I inform him.

The words no sooner leave my lips, when I take a good look at his body and realize that he's certainly no stranger to the gym. His muscles look like they could rip his shirt open if he swings the club a little too hard. Even his green eyes have a little twinkle and I have to admit, he is very good looking.

Seventeen holes later, I'm actually having a blast with Aiden. That could have something to do with the fact that I'm ahead by two strokes and I know it's killing him. He's lined up at the tee giving a couple of practice swings as he tries to figure out the timing of the windmill so his ball doesn't get rejected back at him. I know it's wrong, but as he lines up to take his official swing, I hip check him right before he makes contact with the ball, causing it to bounce off the wooden side wall.

"What the hell? Cheater! Cheater!" Aiden screams to nobody in particular.

A few other golfers turn to look at him and he is pointing to me continuing to announce me as a cheater to the entire mini-golf course. We return our focus to his golf ball, which has bounced off the other side and is headed directly towards the half circle opening beneath the windmill.

To my and Aiden's surprise, the ball narrowly avoids the blade on the windmill and enters the hole and we listen for the noises of the little ball traveling through PVC pipe until it comes out the other side. The ball rolls on the lower green and we watch as it heads directly for the hole. I cringe at the distinct sound of the clinking of the ball as it falls into the last hole.

"Hole in one! Hole in one!" Aiden chants dancing with his golf club in the air. "It's your turn cheater!"

As long as I get the ball in the hole in three shots or less, it will be a tie or a win. I inhale a deep breath of air and set my ball down on the tee.

"No pressure," Aiden taunts as I eye the hole beneath the windmill.

I shoot him a death glare and try to focus on the shot as I draw the club back. Before I'm able to connect with the ball, Aiden tickles my sides and the contact between my club and the ball is less than perfect.

"Jerk!" I yell as we both watch my ball completely miss the hole in the windmill and bounce back towards the tee.

I stomp in his direction with a furious look on my face because putt-putt is sacred and I'm the only one who is allowed to distract. Aiden runs in figure eights trying to avoid me.

"Fairs fair, Spencer. You should really make sure you focus next time. You seemed a little distracted on that last shot," he teases between pants as I chase after him with my club raised.

Suddenly, he scoops me under his arm and throws me over his shoulder. I squeal in embarrassment as he walks me back to the eighteenth hole and places me down at the tee.

"Two shots left. Show me what you got, Michelle Wie," he commands.

I line up where the ball stopped in the middle of the green and attempt my shot. This time, without any distractions, I get the ball through the windmill and it lands on the bottom green. Quickly, the ball heads toward the hole and Aiden and I both watch holding our breath to see if the ball has too much steam to make it in the cup without bouncing out.

The ball circles the outside of the hole and gravity finally kicks in, sucking the ball into the lock box below.

"Woo! Like Charlie Sheen, I'm winning!" I shout.

Now it's my turn for a victory dance and I start doing the robot in the middle of the eighteenth hole.

"Winner pays for ice cream!" Aiden says interrupting my from my terrible dancing.

"No way! Loser pays!" I disagree, pushing his shoulder.

He over exaggerates his stumble backwards and trips over a plastic penguin that's part of a nearby hole, landing on his ass. I can't stop laughing, but jog over and extend my hand to help him up.

"After that, the ice cream is my treat," I suggest as he takes my hand in his.

"No, it's okay. I don't need your pity ice cream, Spencer," Aiden tells me and pulls me down onto the ground with him.

I land on top of his chest and he is as hard as a rock under me. Does this kid do anything else but work out? I'm busy laughing and so is he, but think about how I feel comfortable instantly when I'm around him. Normally, muscley pretty boy types make me self conscious and tongue tied, but for some reason, I'm just Spencer with him.

His hands brush the hair so he can directly look into my eyes and we're both smiling at each other.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," Aiden informs me softly.

We stay like that for a moment, but a group of golfers walk by and we both get up and walk back towards the store. Aiden buys me an ice cream and we have comfortable conversation over ski-ball for an hour before we decide to call it a night. Being the gentleman he is, Aiden walks me to my car where we linger for a moment to say our goodbyes.

"I had an above average time tonight," Aiden admits.

"Just above average? I must be loosing my touch," I quip with a raised eyebrow.

"It would have been the best first date I've ever had IF I didn't get beat in both putt-putt and ski-ball," he explains. "I'm probably going to go home and have a good cry, actually."

"Aww. I promise I'll let you win next time or at least bring some tissues," I say.

Instantly I regret my words, because it sounds like I just asked him out on another date. Aiden picks up on my suggestion and asks, "You won't have to let me win next time. I'll pick something better for myself so I can have an ounce of self esteem after our next date."

I can't help but smile and return, "Okay, but I don't lose too often, so good luck with that."

"I'll call you later," Aiden promises and I can tell that he will.

"Ok. I had a great time tonight," I say.

"And uh, Spencer," he adds.

"Yeah?" I question, hoping he isn't coming in for a kiss. I'm not ready for that one yet. And that would be the perfect way to ruin this evening.

"I was right earlier. You are really good with balls," he reminds me with a smirk.

After that last final playful insult, Aiden wraps me a hug and after we break away, he closes the door to my car behind me.

When I get back to my dorm, Chelsea is not there. She's probably staying at her boyfriend Clay's frat house. They are almost attached at the hip after just six weeks of dating. A few minutes later, I get ready for bed and remember that it's time to text Ashley back.

**I'll be there at six! What are the plans, rockstar?**

Ashley texts me back a few minutes later. I open my phone and have another smile at how impossible it is for this day to get better until I see her response.

**I can't wait. You can tell me all the details about your hot date! I figure we can go out to dinner and drinks at a little spot I know near the Santa Monica Pier.**

She also includes her address and the code to open her gate. I don't want our connection to end, but I yawn as I text her back, knowing I'm exhausted.

**Deal. Goodnight Ash.**

My phone vibrates for the last time and through sleepy eyes I make out her reply.

**Night Spence. Sweet dreams.**

I try not to wonder where she is, because I'm sure she's out at a bar somewhere making eyes at a beautiful woman right now. That thought causes my heart to break a little bit, so I push it aside and imagine our time together tomorrow. My dreams are filled with the famous brunette and it's those thoughts that get me through the lonely night.

A/N: I feel bad for making Aiden kind of a douche in my last story, so he's going to be a good guy in this one. And yeah, there's going to be some Spaiden going on.


	4. Made your bet, now lie in it

Ashley POV:

I check my phone for the three hundredth time to verify that Spencer's text messages have not magically disappeared. I didn't just make it all up. I really get to see her again. Tomorrow. At six. It seems so far away!

"You're pathetic," Madison comments, sliding a drink in front of me.

"What? I am just checking to see if Kyla is coming out tonight," I lie.

"Liar," Madison calls my bluff instantly. "You are totally smitten this girl and you can't get that ridiculous look of your face."

"I am not! And there's no look!" I argue indignantly.

"Oh really? Since when are you all BFF's with your half sister?" Madison questions rhetorically. She knows Kyla and I get along as well as cats and bananas. Have you ever seen a cat sniff a banana? It's hilarious how much a cat can be repulsed by a piece of fruit.

"I'm sorry. She's just so…so…" I struggle with the right words to say, "Spencer!"

"Don't make me regret this bet," Madison says shaking her head with a smirk.

"About that bet," I start hesitantly.

Madison smacks me in the shoulder and interrupts, "Oh my God! It's been less than two weeks Ash! You already want out of the bet after meeting some girl for an hour and a half?"

I sigh, not wanting to give into her attempt to break me down. "The bet is still on," I acknowledge hating that I still have two more girls to sleep with and one of them won't be Spencer.

Madison gives me a frown and declares, "It's okay, Ash. I'll just take the keys from you now and we'll pretend like it never happened. You'll be saving yourself a lot of torture over the next few months."

The competitive side of me comes out, because I don't want to lose. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I know my track record well enough to consider the possibility that there is a 99.9% chance I will mess up with Spencer anyhow and still have plenty of time to finish the bet. Plus, I really need this time off. I need to figure out what I want to do with my life and my career without everyone breathing down my neck.

"No need for that, Mads. I want you to have plenty of time to work up the courage to tell Ethan I won't be touring," I finally return.

Why am I doing this? Spencer is technically not straight. She's not exactly gay either. It makes this whole situation even more volatile. I decide my best option is just to see what happens tomorrow night and worry about the consequences of this challenge later.

Madison gives me a sideways glance and takes a sip from her mojito and then questions, "So what are you going to do to sweep Spencer off her feet on your big date tomorrow?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about going to the Santa Monica pier and doing some fun touristy things since she is new to L.A. After dinner I think we can try the Ferris wheel. Splitting a cotton candy," I let my mind wander aloud.

"Not bad," Madison comments. "Doesn't sound like the kind of date that screams 'get into my pants', but for someone who hasn't been on a proper date in years, it's not terrible."

"What? What do you mean proper date? I date quite regularly," I object.

They don't call me a player for nothing. My reputation is hard earned and I wear it like a girl scout wears a merit badge: with pride. I just deliver a different kind of cookie.

"No. You get laid quite regularly," Madison corrects. "Before this bet, when was the last time you had a meaningful conversation with a girl you were interested in?"

I hate her right now. She's right. She knows me better than I know myself sometimes. I spin the ice in my drink with the stir straw and take a long pull.

"Probably when I was trying to get in your pants when we first met," I admit.

"Flattery won't get you out of this bet, Ash," Madison quips.

The sad truth is I am being sincere. Out of embarrassment, I hang my head. Something is horribly wrong with this picture. If Madison was genuinely the last person I had a meaningful conversation with before this bet, it's been far too long.

"Oh my God! You're serious?" Madison says laughing. "That's so sweet, Ash!"

Madison puts her arm around me and draws me into a half hug. I break away by leaning on my barstool back in the opposite direction and try to ignore the stupid smile she has plastered on her face. The last thing Madison needs is an ego boost. Her head probably won't fit through the doorway now.

"I'm sorry to intrude," a striking girl to my right says.

She leans against the bar and asks, "Are you two together?"

"God no!" Madison responds for me. I shoot Madison a death stare and return my attention to the interrupting stranger.

She has dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes that are wandering all over my body. A seductive look plays over her face at Madison's words and the stranger continues, "Good. Would you like to dance?"

"Absolutely," I accept her invitation, mainly to piss off Madison.

I offer my hand and she takes it, freeing me from the bar stool. She leads me to the dance floor in a few confident strides. Songs pass and things get intense quickly between us. I feel her body rock against mine as she haphazardly scatters kisses along my neck and shoulder. I turn to face her and decide now is the time to try to have a meaningful conversation. The music is too loud and I can barely make out a word she says, but she uses it as an excuse to wrap her arms around my neck and pull me closer so she can access my ear.

"Want to go back to my place?" she suggests. "We can talk or not talk as much as you want there."

Her offer is followed by a kiss and I know she's more interested in the not talking half of the proposition. Normally, after a kiss like that, I would be dragging her out of the bar. Tonight, I feel something inside of me shift and I say, "I can't. I'm sorry."

Immediately, I turn from my dance partner who is stunned by my rejection. Not wanting to stick around for the backlash, I walk from the crowded dance floor to where Madison is still perched on her stool, now talking to Ethan. Great.

"Hey," I greet them.

"Back already?" Madison asks with faux disappointment.

"I don't feel so well. I think I'm going to call it a night," I inform them.

"What? It's barely midnight," Madison blurts in disbelief.

"Maddy, leave her be. Ashley has a big couple of weeks," Ethan reminds us all. It's business as usual, even on a Saturday night. "Some rest will do her good."

"Right," I agree as if that was my reason for leaving.

I couldn't give two shits about this upcoming album or my responsibilities related to it. Somewhere along the way, music changed from being my passion to my obligation. I close out my tab and give them both a hug goodbye before I get in my car and drive home. I know there is something completely wrong with me and it's starting to freak me out.

Spencer POV:

Sunday morning arrives early and I decide to go to mass to avoid another epic phone argument with my mother about my lackadaisical religious habits. I spend the rest of the afternoon getting ready for my date with Ashley. I wonder if she thinks it's a real date. I wonder if she even dates. Right on cue, my mother calls while I'm painting my toenails.

"Hello," I pick up the phone.

"Hey Spence," she chirps.

At least she's in a good mood from the sounds of things. I mouth the next sentence before it even comes out of her mouth.

"Did you go to church this morning?" she questions.

"Yep," I respond with little enthusiasm and a faint smile since I know her so well.

"Good. And how was your date with Aiden last night?" she asks.

"It went really well. He said he would call, so there might be a second date," I offer her.

I don't know if Aiden is going to call, but it would be great if Paula would just drop this whole online dating thing and let me be, so I'm not above offering her false hope.

There is a little bit of a squeal on the other line and she gushes, "I hope so. He is such a handsome boy!"

Upon hearing her comments, I wonder why she doesn't just date him.

"What are you doing tonight?" she continues to meddle.

"Um hanging out with my friend Ashley," I tell her.

"Ashley?"

"Yeah, we are working on a project together and really hit it off," I vaguely explain. Paula doesn't need to know the details and she certainly wouldn't approve of my budding friendship with Ashley Davies.

"Oh how nice. I'm glad that you're making friends," Paula comments.

"Me too. Well, I've got to go," I announce.

I don't have anywhere to be for another few hours, but I don't want this conversation getting out of hand. My mom seems happy with all my responses and finishes the call with, "Behave, Spencer. Make good decisions."

It's that comment that makes me wish it was possible to smack someone over the phone. I want to make all kinds of bad decisions just to defy her stupid advice.

"," I mumble into the phone. I won't be promising to do anything that Paula would classify as a good decision when it comes to Ashley.

The rest of the afternoon goes by faster than I expect and before I know it I'm at Ashley's house. I punch in the code she gave me to her gate. The gates screech open and I pull beside a black Porsche. It is all very surreal to me and it reminds me that I am standing in Ashley Davies driveway.

I walk up to her door and ring the doorbell. An attractive curly haired brunette with dazzling green eyes opens the door and welcomes me with, "Come in. You must be Spencer. I'm Madison, Ashley's personal assistant."

"Nice to meet you," I respond and step inside.

I try to soak in the gorgeous Spanish style home and am blown away by Ashley's flawless taste. Madison gives me the once over and informs me, "Ashley should be down in a minute."

Under Madison's watchful stare, I feel self conscious about what I'm wearing. It's a simple denim skirt and tank top with a cardigan. I didn't think I was supposed to be more dressed up based on Ashley's text but I could be wrong. Nervously, I grab the locket that hangs from my neck and twist it in my fingers.

"So how did you an Ashley meet?" I ask trying to make friendly conversation.

Madison waves a hand in the air and starts, "It's a funny story actually. I had these backstage passes to a concert that Ashley was the opening act for a few years back and she tried…"

Madison is interrupted by Ashley who bounds down the stairs and shouts, "Mads! Seriously!"

A sheepish look covers Madison's face and I then turn my focus to Ashley who is simultaneously annoyed and embarrassed. It doesn't matter, she's still hot as hell. My eyes drift lower to Ashley's barely there outfit of black shorts with black peep toed pumps and plunging silver halter top. I don't want to look away, but I have to hear the rest of the story.

"No, Madison. I'm interested in hearing the rest of your story," I prod with an ear to ear smile directed at Ashley.

"She tried to kiss me, so I slapped her!" Madison spits out and scampers off, not wanting to get the business end of Ashley's scowl.

"Wow," I acknowledge, trying to hold back a laugh for Ashley's sake.

Ashley takes a few steps closer and whispers in my ear, "Welcome to my world."

I feel her breath softly hit my neck and fight off the shivers that are threatening to cover my entire body. She's close enough to me that I can smell vanilla and lavender emanating from her body. I don't know how it's possible, but Ashley smells as good as she looks.

"You look beautiful, Spence," she purrs into my ear.

"Thanks, you look amazing," I concur and can't help but notice how much this feels like a date and it's only been three minutes.


	5. Fear of Heights

A/N: Yes, I am a tease on that last chapter. Sorry! I'm going to make it up to you now with plenty of uninterrupted Spashley date time. Since it's the weekend, it's only fitting. Thanks for the continued reviews of encouragement.

Ashley POV:

It's a gorgeous night, almost as gorgeous as Spencer. The top is down on the Porsche and I keep stealing glances at Spencer and watch as the wind blows through her hair as we drive to our destination. I tap the brakes as I pull up to a red light.

"Whoever invented the convertible deserves a great big kiss," Spencer declares with her hand raised in the air, letting the breeze pass through her fingers.

After rolling to a complete stop at the red light, I can't resist so I say, "That would be me," and tap on my cheek, hoping she'll take the bait.

Spencer lets loose a giggle and challenges, "So you were alive in at the turn of the 20th century?"

"Maybe," I shoot back, knowing I'm busted, but never admit to being wrong.

Most of the girls I waste my time on aren't interested on calling me out on my bullshit and it's just another reason I'm falling for Spencer. Fortunately, I pull into the valet stand at Sushi Roku a minute later, so I don't have to eat crow for too much longer.

"I hope you like sushi," I say nervously. "If not, we can go someplace else."

"Sushi is great," Spencer lets me know and we walk inside where the hostess immediately seats us at a table.

"So how was your date last night?" I ask unable to stop my sadistic desire to know. The thought of Spencer with anybody else makes my chest ache, but I have a morbid fascination with knowing ever detail of her life.

"Not bad, actually," she admits. "One of the best dates I've ever had."

"Really?" I question in disbelief. This is terrible! "That sounds like a challenge."

"So this is a date?" Spencer checks with an eyebrow raised in my direcion.

"Do you want this to be a date?" I ask.

That's right, Spencer. I just answered your question with a question. What are you going to do now?

"I'll let you know later," she expertly deflects my question. Well played, Spencer.

"Either way, I like a little friendly competition. So in the spirit of fairness, what did you do?" I prod.

"We played putt-putt," Spencer states matter-of-factly.

"Putt-putt," I repeat. "My competition is putt-putt? Did your date get a whole in one?" I joke.

"Why does everyone think I'm a slut?" Spencer askes with a fake pout. "But yes, he did on the last whole. Then Aiden bought me ice cream and we played some ski-ball. I kicked his ass at everything," Spencer gives me minor details with an adorable smug grin.

I can't fight the smile that is plastered on my face, because of everything she does.

"So let me get this straight," I start and immediately regret my choice of words. "No pun intended," I throw in for good measure. Spencer rolls her eyes at me and I continue my point, "All it takes to win you over is fake sports, dessert and embarrassing your date."

"It sounds really bad when you say it like that, but he was really sweet and I just felt comfortable," Spencer explains between bites of edamame.

"Sweat pants can make you feel comfortable, too. That doesn't mean you should date your Hanes," I reply.

It's horrible logic, but Spencer thinks it over. She tucks a strand of her loose curled blond locks behind her ear before she responds, "True. I think dating inanimate objects would be a serious low point, even for me. So tell me rockstar, what does it take to make it to the top of Ashley Davies list of best dates?"

Hot sex. No, wrong answer. I wasn't expecting the table to be turned on me. Spencer just munches on her edamame while I struggle to come up with an answer to that question, seeing as my proper dating skills are still in infancy.

"I uh, I don't know," I answer honestly. "I really haven't been on a lot of dates. I guess I need to go on a date that makes it to the top of the list and then I'll let you know later."

Using her own words against her is all part of my genius plan. Dinner is amazing and I make sure Spencer has at least two cocktails. Yes, I realize we are both under 21, but getting what you want within reason is just one of the many perks of being a celebrity. Dinner goes by too fast, filled with more great conversation and shameless flirting, at least on my part.

After the waiter picks up the check, I'm officially excited for a romantic stroll through Pacific Park. By the time we finish at the restaurant, it's already dark and we walk through the midway. Spencer looks around, soaking in the activity and lights of the park.

"Let's go on the Ferris Wheel," I suggest.

"I'm not really a fan of Ferris Wheels," Spencer admits.

"I promise I'll make sure you're safe," I try to convince her.

"Fine, but don't judge me if I throw up," she teases, or at least I hope she's only teasing.

"Deal," I tell her and grab her hand, so I can lead her towards the Ferris Wheel before she changes her mind.

We finally make it to the Ferris Wheel and into our cart. I still haven't let go of Spencer's hand as we are locked in to our basket. In fact, I notice Spencer squeeze my hand tighter as we climb towards the top.

"Did I mention I don't like Ferris Wheels?" Spencer warns, now squeezing the bejesus out of my hand as we get higher. "I have a tiny fear of heights."

I laugh and the ride comes to a halt as we reach the summit. I whisper calmly, "It's ok. Just look around. I've seen it plenty of times before, but this view never ceases to amaze me."

I'm busy soaking in the ocean as the waves crash to the shore and the choas of the amusement park below us. The glittering lights of Santa Monica in the distance remind me why I love this place so much.

"The view is pretty amazing," Spencer mumbles and I tear my eyes away from the neon reflecting off the water.

Spencer isn't looking at the view below us. Her gaze is firmly planted on my face and I shift the position of my hand, so our fingers are now linked. "Yeah, but it's not as good as mine," I return never taking my eyes off her face.

We stare intently at each other for a moment and all I want to do is seize the moment and kiss her. My heart is racing at the thought of doing just that, but I am afraid if I do, I might ruin this insane connection we have. Instead, I break our eye contact and notice that she's nervously fidgeting with a locket with her free hand.

"What's in the locket?" I wonder aloud and my free hand automatically grazes where Spencer's fingers rest on the necklace.

My thumb absently rubs the etching on the outside of the heart shaped piece of jewelry. Spencer looks away from me and softly explains, "It's a picture of my dad and me."

"Do you mind if I see?" I ask and let my fingers fall from the locket so she can access it.

"Sure," she says and removes her other hand from mine so she can open the locket.

I almost hate myself for asking, because it means I'm no longer touching her and it's obvious there's more to the story that causes Spencer some pain. The open locket displays a picture of a little Spencer, who is adorable by the way, wrapped up in her fathers arms. He doesn't look a whole lot like her, with dark curly hair, but the longer I look, I see they share the same eyes and smile.

"It's a beautiful picture," I comment and read the inscription on the other side which says **_'Until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.'_**

"It's part of an Irish blessing," Spencer explains of the engraved words without me having to ask. "My father used to recite it to me before I went to bed every night. He died when I was fifteen."

"Spence," I breathe softly. "I'm so sorry."

I know what it's like to lose a father. Spencer closes the locket and I grab her hand as soon as she drops it into her lap.

"I lost my dad in a car accident last year," I disclose. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about him."

I don't know if it's an earth shattering revelation, since it was all over the news. Raife was a huge celebrity and although I never got to spend a lot of time with him for that very reason, I still miss him.

Spencer's eyes meet mine and I can there are tears threatening to fall. "I know what you mean and I'm sorry to hear about your dad, too," she offers softly.

A tear drops from the corner of her eye and I rub it away with my thumb as the Ferris Wheel lurches back into action. "This will be the first time I've ever made a girl cry during the date. Usually, it happens after I don't call," I joke desperately trying to get Spencer to stop crying.

Spencer laughs and seems relieved that the subject had been changed. She quips, "Yeah? Should I be worried?"

"No," I respond without an ounce of hesitation. "I already promised you that I'd make sure your safe. And I never break a promise."

"You also told me you invented the convertible," Spencer reminds me.

"True, but I didn't promise you I invented the convertible," I clarify.

"So you admit you didn't?" she tries to verbally trap me.

"I admit nothing," I say with a mischievous grin.

Spencer is silent for a moment as we lazily make another pass on the ride and our car stop again towards the top of the ride. She leans in a places a soft kiss on my cheek and quickly pulls away.

"What was that for?" I ask.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you didn't invent the convertible, but it never hurts to play it safe," she concludes.

Spencer POV:

Ashley is unbelievable. She's infuriating. Cocky. Charming. But above all, she is captivating all my attention. I know she didn't invent the convertible, but there was no way I was going to let our ride on the Ferris Wheel go by without some display of affection, especially after how amazing she was. Also, I tell myself it was a fantastic way to ease my mind about my fear of heights.

Much to my nervous system's relief, the ride ends a few minutes later. My legs are a little wobbly once I try to stand on solid ground after exiting the ride and Ashley is there to slide in beside me and steady me. As soon as I feel her body so close to mine, I forget to breathe. It feels so perfect.

"Woah," she says. "Maybe we should try hanging out on land for a little bit. There are some games back this way."

Her hand finds mine and she leads me back to the midway, where there are a handful of different kinds of games to chose from.

"What do you want to play?" I ask.

"Wac-a-mole!" Ashley excitedly exclaims. "I can't wait to picture those moles as Madison's face. I owe her a little payback after the stunt she pulled earlier. Come to think of it, she kinda looks like one of those moles with her shifty eyes."

I laugh at her flawed reasoning, since Madison is exotic and not at all mole-like, and inhale the familiar scent of fried dough that fills the air. We approach the booth where the game is and I challenge, "Hey rockstar?"

"Yeah," she replies as she picks up the foam mallet.

"Wanna make this interesting?" I question.

"What do you have in mind?" she returns.

"A little friendly wager. Loser has to buy the winner a souvenir," I suggest.

"Oh it's on blondie," Ashley agrees with a smile. "You've got yourself a…bet," she says and chokes over the last part.

"Is everything ok?" I ask.

She avoids my glance, but says vaguely, "Yeah. Everything is fine. It's just that I seem to be getting myself into trouble with some bets lately."

Before I can ask her the meaning of her last comment, the attendant comes over and we pay for our games. I grab my foam mallet and give her my most intimidating squinty eyed stare as if I'm some kind of femme fatale version of Clint Eastwood.

"God, you are sexy," Ashley says as the music booms, signaling the start of the game.

I'm already a few shots behind her as I try to recover from her sweet-talking. I've never concentrated harder at trying to hammer those annoying plastic moles. The game winds down and I take a look at my score versus Ashley's. She's managed to beat me by six moles.

"Damn! How did you beat me?" I wonder like the ungraceful loser I am.

"I'm really good with my hands, Spence," Ashley deadpans. "Plus, I just kept thinking about pounding Madison's big mouth shut."

The game attendant walks over and rewards Ashley and her robot beating hands with a miniature stuffed giraffe. Not only did she beat me, she beat everyone else playing, too.

"He's adorable. What are you going to name him?" I ask.

"I'm going to name HER Ashley Davies," she tells me.

"Conceited much?" I tease.

"Always. And the giraffe isn't for me, it's for you," she says extending the giraffe out to me. "That way, in case anybody asks, you can tell them you slept with Ashley Davies on the first date."

I laugh as I contemplate if this means what I think it does. She's casually said it twice now, so it's fair to assume that Ashley considers this to be a date. Happily, I take the giraffe from her hands and retort, "I already told you I'm not into one night stands, so it won't just be tonight. I'll sleep with her every night. We're going to be in a committed and monogamous relationship. No other stuffed animals for this girl."

"Is it bad that I'm jealous of a stuffed animal that bears my name? Now, I distinctly remember this loser babbling something about buying a souvenir a minute ago," Ashley trails off with a smile on her face.

"Loser?" I scoff with mock outrage. "Does a kick in your ass count as a souvenir?"

"No need to get violent Spencer. You may be extremely hot, but your not much of a graceful loooooser!" she jokes, lingering on the word loser.

"Come on," I demand, grabbing her hand and heading towards the girft shop before she can call me a loser again.

If I compare tonight to yesterday, I realize this is almost the exact opposite of why I considered last night to be one of my top dates. I'm not comfortable, I'm nervous as hell around her. I lose instead of winning, which I chalk up to Ashley being so damn un-nerving. The only things that are similar are the fake sports. But it is still inching to the top of the list. Who am I kidding? It's already proudly seated at the top.


	6. Graceful Loser

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I got a little sidetracked with some other writings (Some of them Spashley related) and the general chaos of life.

Ashley POV:

We mill around inside of the gift shop for a little while, looking at the postcards and coffee mugs. Spencer disappears down an aisle and I let her have a few minutes before I meet up with her at the front of the store. She's clutching a small brown paper bag which I assume is my reward for being awesome at life, or at least in one round of Wac-a-Mole.

"Oh, is that for me?" I ask anxiously.

I love presents. And I can't wait to see what Spencer got me.

"Yes, but you're going to have to wait for it," she chides and snatches the paper bag away from me and tucks it away into her purse.

I groan like a spoiled little brat who has just been denied dessert until she eats all her peas. I don't care how old you are, that's wrong and possibly child abuse. Peas are disgusting. Spencer pulls me from my over-dramatic inner monologue by linking her arm with mine and pulling me out of the store.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Well, if you're going to act like a two year old," she starts.

"I think I was more around three or maybe four-ish, but continue," I object to her assessment of my maturity.

"Then I'm going to treat you like one," she finishes.

I have no idea what the hell that means, but of course only dirty thoughts fill my head. " Ooh la la. Does this mean you're going to spank me tonight?"

Her eyes drift to my ass and I consider my stupidity a small victory until she follows my comment up with, "I was thinking more along the lines of a little time out," Spencer clarifies. "Like on this ride," she continues nodding towards some kiddie ride that goes in a circle at a whopping two miles per hour.

"Seriously? I am not getting on that thing. It's literally for adrenaline intolerant children," I mock.

"Relax it was only a joke and don't hate on those of us who have some problems producing our own adrenaline," Spencer says.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I question, completely confused.

Spencer rode the Ferris Wheel and did very well for someone who claims to have a fear of heights. Judging from the scar on her knee I noticed earlier, she doesn't mind getting a little rough. Mmm. Spencer and me getting rough. There's nothing like rug burns from floor sex. Then I can kiss them and make them better, which will inevitably lead to more floor sex. My dirty thoughts are stopped after my second mental orgasm, by the sounds of Spencer rummaging in her purse.

Digging into her purse, she fishes out a cylindrical container and slaps it into my hand. "It's my Epi-pen. I'm allergic to wasps, yellow jackets and hornets. My body can't seem to make enough adrenaline to save me if I get stung. Almost died when I was sixteen," she explains nonchalantly.

"Aww. You're like Thomas J in My Girl," I comment. "Except way cuter than Macaulay Culkin."

It's true. I don't know how such a damn cute little boy turned into a creepy looking man. I blame Michael Jackson.

"Definitely. And I didn't die," she agrees with a chuckle. "Ashley Davies has watched My Girl? Oh the things I'm learning about you tonight, rockstar."

"I'm glad you didn't die," I mumble completely not addressing her comment about My Girl. Nobody needs to know about my softer side just yet. Still contemplating that some tiny bug with an attitude problem almost prevented me from meeting Spencer, I spin the tube in my hand.

"I'm glad I didn't die, too," Spencer concurs.

"So if you get stung, what do I do, stick this thing in your butt?" I question, staring at the tube in my hand.

I'm not very good at emergency situations. I don't do well with blood or injuries. I've never seen a torture device like this before and have no idea how to use it.

"Ash, it's not an enema," she corrects between laughs. "And that's the first time I've ever had anyone suggest putting something in my butt on the first date."

Her hand frees the tube from my hand and she pops the lid open so I'm free to inspect this thing. Except I'm way too distracted by the fact Spencer just called this our first date.

"Usually I wait until the second date before I mention putting things in butts, but you're pretty special," I confirm with a wink.

"Thanks," she says with a laugh and completely avoids the topic as a blush covers her face. "I've got like thirty minutes before I lose consciousness, so I'll more than likely be able to do it myself. But you just pull out the yellow tab and kind of jam it into my thigh like this so the needle can poke through," Spencer instructs and lifts up her skirt a little.

Frightened by this whole dying prospect and scary ass needle pen she's currently fake jabbing on her leg and simultaneously totally aroused by the best first aid demonstration ever, I hand over the container so Spencer can put it back in her purse where it belongs.

"Where did you get stung?" I ask, although I still can't get comfortable with this conversation that involves any possibility of Spencer not being here in this moment with me right now.

"Right here," Spencer reports and rubs at her palm between her index finger and thumb.

I grab her hand and rub over the spot she just did and ask, "Here?"

Spencer just nods and bites her bottom lip nervously. My gaze traces up to her eyes and I lift her hand to my lips so I can place a gently kiss there. I never let go of her hand and make sure it's linked with mine as we continue to wander around the park together until slowly the rides shut down for the night and we are forced to leave. On our way out, a few girls stop and ask for my autograph and take pictures with their phone.

Spencer watches quietly from a reasonable distance and I jog over to her after I finish and say, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Ash. I think it's great how you treat your fans. Sometimes when it's just you and me I forget your some big famous rockstar," Spencer reasons.

"Me too," I agree with a smile and we make our way back to the valet.

Spencer POV:

It wasn't until those fans came up, that I remembered that Ashley is a celebrity. She didn't act like one all night. Not that I have a lot of experience hanging out with celebrities. Or any experience for that matter, at least until yesterday.

As we are waiting for her car to arrive, some paparazzo catches us standing there waiting and begins to take photos of us. The lights from the flash are blinding and while I'm in a state of shock as he peppers her relentlessly with questions about me and if we are on a date, she opens the passengers side door to her Porsche and lets me in. I soon become painfully aware of how strange it is to be out with someone famous.

"Just buckle up. We'll be out of here in a second," Ashley commands softly.

I do as instructed and Ashley pulls away from the curb, leaving the flashing lights of the camera to grow smaller in the distance. I'm still in shock, adjusting to life as Ashley knows it.

She gazes at me with an apologetic stare and exclaims, "I'm so sorry, Spence. I was really hoping I could get one night of peace and quiet. I hate those fuckers!"

One hand hits the steering wheel to prove her point. The other hand is clenched around the shifter and I reach down and wrap my hand on top of hers, giving it a squeeze.

"Ash, it's okay. I don't care about paparazzi or fans. All I care about is that I got to spend time with you tonight. And for the record, I had a great time," I offer her.

Ashley gives me a smile, the kind of smile that instantly sets my heart racing so fast, I'm afraid she can feel the blood throbbing in the veins of my hand, so I loosen my grip and place my hand back in my lap.

"Really?" she questions with a shaky voice.

"Yes, silly. Why wouldn't I?" I ask.

After all, there was nothing about tonight that I feel could have gone better. Even with the paparazzi invasion, the way Ashley handled the situation was perfect.

"Maybe because I beat you in Wac-A-Mole," she guesses with a cocky smirk.

She's never going to let me live this one down. I can't stop myself from the ridiculous chuckle that escapes my lips. That was certainly the low point of the night, if you could even call it that. Even the low point was still magical.

"Fair enough. But I am a graceful loser if it's absolutely necessary, so it's ok," I let her know as we pull into her driveway.

Ashley rolls her eyes at me and says, "Next time, you can pick the game and maybe you'll do a little better at winning."

I flash her my best million watt smile, before exiting her now parked car. "I'll take you up on that, rockstar. And don't be surprised if I kick your butt!" I challenge.

"Ohhh. I'm so scared of little Spencer and her butt kicking skills and trash talk," Ashley retorts as we stop in front of my car.

Not knowing what else to say, I reach into my purse and hand Ashley the paper bag from the gift shop. "Here, I guess it's time for you to see what you won," I explain.

The paper crinkles as she tears the stuffed animal from the bag. It's a little teddy bear dressed up in a Halloween costume. It's a little cheesy, so I feel the need to explain to Ashley.

"Her name is Spencer Carlin. That way you can keep your reputation in tact and say you slept with her on the first date," I tease.

Ashley gives me this nose crinkling smile that makes breathing seem as challenging as trying to find out the square root of 756,908. She continues to inspect the bear for a second longer and declares, "I love it, Spence. And Spencer Carlin just might be the first girl who gets to sleep with me every night."

"I'm glad. I couldn't resist the Halloween costume either. It's my favorite holiday," I add.

Ashley cocks her head to the side and questions, "Halloween huh? Isn't it a few weeks away?"

"Yep," I agree.

"Well, I have to go out of town tomorrow and do some radio show interviews on the east coast this week. But I think we should get together again to celebrate your favorite holiday," Ashley decides.

"I'd like that," I concur, trying to hide my disappointment at not being able to see Ashley for a while.

"I'll be gone for ten days, but I should be back Wednesday. So do you want to get together that Friday night?"

"Yeah. I think my friend Clay's frat is having a big Halloween party. You can come in disguise and nobody will even know who you are," I try to entice her to saying yes.

"That sounds perfect. Now I just need to think of a costume," Ashley accepts my invitation, which completely takes me by surprise. "A frat party was on my unofficial to-do list for the college experience."

We stand there for a minute and realize that it is unfortunately time to wrap up our evening together.

"I guess I'd better get going. I still have some homework to do," I announce and then hate myself for sounding like the world's biggest nerd.

"Ok, Spence. I wouldn't want to be a bad influence on you. Go get your study on," she replies.

I've always felt that if it's done right, a well executed hug can be more intimate than a kiss. We must both be thinking the same thing, because our arms reach out and find each other and don't stop until our bodies connect. Ashley has me wrapped into the kind of hug that makes me forget that kissing is even an option. Nope, just kidding. I still can't help but wonder what kissing her would be like.

"Spence, you still want to know what makes the top of the list for my best date?" Ashley asks as she pulls back reluctantly.

"Sure," I reply never taking my eyes of her.

"Tonight," Ashley announces simply and I watch as a coy smile crosses her face.

"Goodnight, Ash."

"Goodnight, Spence," Ashley returns and walks toward her front door.


	7. Front Page News

A/N: So this fiction takes place starting in October 2011 cuz, well, I want it to. Sidenote. I love Us Weekly. That is my crack. Also, I am having some serious writers block, so it might be a while on my updates. I don't know what's wrong with me!

Ashley POV:

I really hate being interviewed. You never know what people are going to ask. Yet, here I am at a radio station at an ungodly hour, only functional because of the fact that Madison has already fed me a double espresso. Being this tired is not good for me, because I'm paranoid that I won't be able to spin my usual celebrity bullshit. I'm still on west coast time and it's five am there, which on a good night would mean I'm only in my first hour of sleep for the night.

I fidget on the stool, trying to make myself comfortable and talk to the DJ's during the commercial break. Madison graciously puts a fresh cup of Starbucks in front of me and I take a long pull.

The commercial ends and I'm re-introduced to the wonderful city of New York and it's radio listeners. The interview starts of uneventful, with the normal questions about my career and the status of my next album. Then, they start to bring up the personal stuff, which always makes me nervous.

"So, Ashley. You have quite the reputation for being a bit of a player. Do you think there is any one out there that can get you to commit?" the DJ asks me.

All I can think is that in the past few days that answer went from a resounding no to a deafening Spencer. I almost blurt out her name at the thought, but choke it back.

"Tentative silence," the other DJ interrupts my train of thought. "Is there already somebody who has?"

Crap. Now I'm officially screwed. I can't say yes, but I can't say no.

"I do think there is a possibility for that, someday," I start and try to emphasize the someday part. "Right now, I am just so wrapped up in my career I'm afraid I would be a terrible girlfriend."

Madison crosses her arms as she leans against the wall and begins to roll her eyes at me. Mentally, and I hope telepathically, I give her the finger. After reading my body language, she gives me a smirk and starts itching her chin with her middle finger. I swear it's frightening how in tune we are with each other.

"So this mystery blonde isn't the love of your life?" the first morning show personality ass clown asks me.

"Mystery blonde?" I repeat wondering if he could be referring to Spencer.

He slides a copy of Us Weekly across the table to me with a smug smile on his face and tells the rest of the radio audience, "The one who has been spotted with you out recently that's in the photos in the new edition of Us Weekly."

I look at the magazine, which has been turned to the a page where there are pictures of Spencer and I walking to her car after our first meeting at the coffee shop. I didn't even notice the paparazzi then, probably because I was too busy checking out Spencer's ass. Then, there are a few more photos of Spencer and me from Sunday night. You can't see her face, but she's clearly clutching the giraffe I gave her after Wac-A-Mole. As much as my heart is warmed by the memories of our date resurfacing, I'm pissed that it's already been published for the world to see.

There isn't even an official us and I'm certainly not going to out Spencer to America, or at least a few million downstate New Yorker's, so I respond, "She is just a friend. The only thing in my bed that night was a teddy bear."

It feels like a lie as soon as it leaves my lips, because I already know I want so much more than just friendship from Spencer.

"How cute. Ashley Davies sleeps with a teddy bear? I didn't know you had a soft side," my interviewer comments.

"Yes, but don't tell anyone!" I respond with a chuckle.

I'm not sure what this does for my badass rock star image, but I realize I can turn it all around by nailing my interview and performance on my upcoming appearance on the Today Show.

The radio interview wraps up a few minutes later and I take a few pictures with the staff before being whisked off to the waiting car in front of the radio station.

As soon as the driver shuts the door behind Madison, she lays into me. "The only thing in my bed that night was a teddy bear," she says in an annoyingly high pitched mocking tone of voice. "What the fuck was that all about?"

"Fuck the teddy bear!" I growl. "I can't believe those photos are already in the magazines!"

"What's got your panties all in a twist? As your personal assistant, I know it isn't that time of the month. It probably has to do with the fact that you haven't gotten laid in over a week," Madison retorts.

"Shut up Mads! I have to call Spencer and tell her. Do you think it's to early to call?" I wonder aloud.

Madison pushes me a little more with, "Wait. What do you care? There have been like a million pictures of you with random skanks in the tabloids before and I've never seen you react like this."

Skank! Did she just refer to my Spencer as a skank? Did I just refer to Spencer as my Spencer?

"Don't you dare lump Spencer into the same category as those girls. She doesn't deserve to become America's next tabloid sensation just because we are…" I trail off at a complete loss for words.

Together? No. Friends? Not really. Why am I freaking out so much when I barely know this girl.

Madison gives me a knowing smile and offers, "Dating?"

I don't bother to ague, because I know I don't have much time left to call Spencer before we arrive at our destination. Ignoring Madison's all knowing glare, I locate Spencer's name in my phone and hit send.

She picks up after the third ring with a sleepy, "Hello?"

"Spence, I have to talk to you," I blurt out excitedly.

"Ashley. It's like six in the morning here. This better be really freaking important," she mumbles.

Morning Spencer is grumpy. Adorable, but still grumpy. Her husky sleepy voice makes me wish I was curled up in bed with her right now hearing it in person. I'm not sure how I go about bringing up the subject, but there is no way around this and Spencer deserves to hear it from me than find out for herself on an episode of E! News Daily.

"Sorry. I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your spread in Us Weekly. You photograph quite well," I joke, hoping it will ease the severity of the situation.

"Huh? Just tell me what you are talking about, Ash," she demands.

I heave out a deep sigh before I inform her softly, "The photos the paparazzi took of us Saturday and Sunday. They are in the new issue of Us Weekly."

"What? Are you kidding me?" she questions suddenly sounding more awake.

"It's not that bad. It's kind of hard to make out that it's you. There isn't like a close up of your face or anything. Nobody will know," I try to offer her.

There is an awkward silence between us as I struggle to find the right thing to say. I wish I could see her face, but I just hold the phone to my ear and wait for her response.

"I guess I will have to go to the bookstore and check it out and see just how bad," she says finally.

The car rolls to a stop and Madison announces the obvious, "We're here."

"No shit Sherlock," I tell her. I hold up my index finger so I can get one more minute with Spencer before I have to leave.

"I gotta go, Spence. I will call you as soon as I get a chance, I promise," I tell her.

"K, Ash. Thanks for the heads up," she mumbles.

"I'm sorry it happened," I say softly.

"It's ok. It's not your fault, Ash. Have fun and good luck," Spencer ends the call, slightly more upbeat.

I hope Hoda and Kathie Lee have some sort of alcohol on their segment today, because after this morning, I need a drink and it's barely nine a.m.

Spencer POV:

All I want to do is go back to bed, but my thoughts are racing. I glance over to Chelsea's empty bed across the room and decide to go for a run. Running doesn't help to clear my head, it just makes it all worse. If anybody can tell it's me in those pictures and it gets back to my mom, I'm dead. I arrive back at the room and take a shower. I throw on jeans and a hoodie and decide to grab breakfast before I make the trek to the bookstore.

I grab my phone off my desk, just in time for Chelsea to enter the room. She's startled to see me up and asks, "What are you doing up so early?"

My first class doesn't start until ten and I'm more of a roll out of bed directly to class kind of girl, so me being up right now is not normal.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I say. "And I would ask you the same thing, but you are clearly doing the walk of shame."

A blush crosses her face at being busted in a slutty, albeit, necessary indiscretion.

"Want to go to breakfast and the bookstore with me?" I ask.

My phone rings before Chelsea can respond. I see Aiden's name on the display and consider my options. Should I answer it or let it go to voicemail? Answer it or let it go to voicemail? Chelsea snaps me out of my thoughts as she asks, "Are you going to answer your phone or just stare at it all day?"

"Shut up! It's Aiden. Do you think I should answer it?" I direct to Chelsea.

"Personally, I've never been one for playing games, so I would. But if you aren't ready, it's not a bad idea to see what his voicemail is like," Chelsea offers me no help whatsoever.

I decide to answer with a quick, "Hello."

"Hey, Spencer," Aiden says. He sounds nervous. "For a while there I thought you weren't going to pick up. What's up?"

"Not too much. What's up with you?"

"Ah, just on my way in to work," he informs me. "I hope it's not too early.

"No, not at all," I respond thinking that normally it would be severely too early.

I scan my brain trying to remember what he does. It's only been three days since our date, but I already forgot. I decide it would be rude if I asked him again, so I instead opt to not say anything.

He continues after a moment of silence, "So the reason why I am calling is to see if you'd like to hang out again sometime."

This time, I don't leave him hanging for too long before I respond, "Yeah, I'd like that. What did you have in mind?"

Chelsea is obviously listening for my reaction and she starts jumping around like a cracked out cheerleader in her pajamas. I think she is doing the macarena and it's so bad I can't even look at her any longer.

"Anything but putt-putt. How about something that involves no competition. Dinner and a movie?" he suggests.

"Ok. What movie?" I ask, wanting to make some friendly conversation and make sure I don't have to sit through some weak ass Bruce Willis movie. It's all been downhill for him since the split with Demi.

"Well, I remember you telling me about your nerd side on our first date," he begins.

I interrupt with, "What!"

I most certainly did not tell him about my nerd side. I lock that shit up tight. That's something that comes out only after I'm actually in a relationship with someone and that person is stuck with me.

"So maybe you didn't tell me, but you did reference Back to the Future like three times when we were out," Aiden clarifies.

"Hey, it's a great movie," I defend.

Chelsea rolls her eyes at me, clearly disgusted by the unfortunate turn this conversation and hops back on her bed so she can play Words with Friends.

"It is," Aiden agrees. "But I was hoping if you liked science fiction, you might be into Twilight."

I'm not sure how time traveling Delorians and vampires are related, but the boy knows how to melt my heart.

"That would be cool, but it doesn't open until next month," I blurt and then realize knowing the release date of Twilight makes me even more of a raging nerd, if that's possible.

"I know. I have a friend who may or may not have stumbled upon a bootleg copy which is now in my possession. I don't know if you've seen the others. If you haven't it's ok, we could always go out to the movies or dinner," he rambles on nervously.

It's kinda cute when he does, and he must even be aware as he continues, "Sorry. I'm rambling. I'm a little nervous."

"It's all right. I have seen the others and I am fine with staying in or going out," I inform him.

"Good. I know it's only Tuesday, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over tomorrow? It's not that I don't think you are worthy of a weekend date, because you definitely are, but I was hoping to see you sooner. And I was going to cook dinner. I hope you like steak, because I really only know how to grill."

Bootleg Twilight and sweet talking and a home cooked meal from a man. That's like the recipe for panty dropping in the straight guys handbook.

"Tomorrow is great and I love meat," I say and instantly bite my lip at my poorly thought out words.

Chelsea laughs in the background and I can't even look at her because I will start laughing too. We finish the call with Aiden and I bickering over me driving versus him picking me up. I lost that argument, so he will be picking me up tonight at six.

An hour later, Chelsea and are are finishing breakfast at the student union. I'm continuing to make idle conversation with Chelsea about Aiden and Clay as we drop off our trash.

"So are you doing to tell me what's going on?" she asks.

"What?" I question and try to avoid her gaze.

"Come on, Spence. You've been asking me all kinds of retarded questions this morning and who the hell wants to make it to the bookstore as soon as it opens?" Chelsea challenges.

I stop dead in my tracks and Chelsea stops a few steps later. She backs up to get near me and I wave her closer, "Can you keep a secret?"

Chelsea gives me a suspicious look and nods, which I take as my cue to continue.

"You remember how I had that online dating interview Saturday?" I ask and we start our walk to the bookstore.

"Yeah," Chelsea responds.

We enter the bookstore and I walk directly towards the magazine rack. I grab the issue of Us Weekly and flip through the pages as I continue to explain to Chelsea, "Well, the person who I met for the interview is kind of famous."

"What? Who is it?" she questions.

Ignoring her so I can find the photos Ashley was telling me about, I finally locate the page and scan the images and the captions. Ashley is right and my heart rate finally slows as I realize that I am not recognizable in the pictures.

"Ashley Davies," I finally tell Chelsea lowly so that nobody can overhear me. "And we hung out again Sunday night," I finish and hand her the magazine so she can see the photos for herself.

Chelsea's chocolate brown eyes scan the magazine in front of her and she exclaims, "Holy shit, Spencer! You weren't joking. I mean, I can't tell it's you, but that giraffe is definitely on your bed right now. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I don't know. When I met her Saturday, I didn't realize I was going to meet the Ashley Davies. And then, we made plans to hang out again on Sunday and I didn't know…" I trail off trying to figure out how to explain.

My feelings for Ashley are complicated. Scratch that. They are pretty fucking simple. I like her. What's complicated is trying to figure out if I _like _like her while my journey is being published in every tabloid on display for the world to see. And possibly Paula Carlin. And not to mention the fact that it's the Ashley Davies who isn't exactly girlfriend material. There are just to many ands for this to be anything but complicated.

"Are you dating Ashley Davies?" Chelsea asks with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"No!" I answer to quickly and snatch the magazine out of her hand and put it back on the shelf.

Chelsea laughs and grabs the magazine back from it's resting spot and bolts over to the counter. I rush to catch up to her as she hands the cashier five bucks and waits for her change.

"What are you doing?" I demand as she takes her purchase from the cashier.

"Spence, don't give me attitude. You need to have something to show your grandchildren in fifty years," she retorts and laughs at me and hands over the bag with the magazine.

I can't quite figure out if she is joking or serious, but I'm glad to have another keepsake from my time with Ashley.


	8. Getcha popcorn ready

A/N: I always wondered what Aiden's parents would have been like, other than the fact that they were obviously never around. So I have created a mom for him. Please don't hate on me too much, because I am trying not to dwell too much on Spaiden, but it's gotta be in the story and this should be the last bit that is really detailed one on one. Trust me?

Spencer POV:

My date night with Aiden arrives. We've been texting non-stop since our conversation yesterday morning. He sends me another text to let me know he is waiting downstairs and will come up to my room to get me. I tell him I live on the fifth floor and I'll be waiting near the elevator. Chelsea, because she is nosy, decides to tag along to meet him.

I see him exit the elevator and give him a quick wave.

"Spencer, if you don't tap that, I will," Chelsea whispers in my ear.

"Chelsea!" I gasp. It's totally uncharacteristic for her to speak like that. "What about Clay?"

"You can have him!" she informs me.

All I do is chuckle and leave Chelsea to perv on my date as he walks near us. He flashes me a smile and pulls me into a hug that lifts me off the ground slightly.

"Hey Spencer," he murmurs and sets me on the ground.

"Hey, Aiden. I'd like you to meet my roommate, Chelsea," I say and motion towards her.

They shake hands and Chelsea quickly responds, "Nice to meet you. Don't wait up for me tonight Spence. I'll see you tomorrow!"

As she rushes past us, she gives me a wink. I walk Aiden to my room and give him a quick tour and he makes himself comfortable on my bed.

"Boy, you don't waste any time trying to get into a girls bed, do you?" I joke.

"Nope!" he retorts and picks up my giraffe. "Cute giraffe. What's it's name?"

I can feel the red creeping up into my cheeks and I simply announce, "Ashley."

"Should I be worried about you sleeping with Ashley? She seems like she could be a little fiesty in the sack," Aiden jokes.

"If only you knew," I say honestly and cover it up with a devilish smirk. If only I knew.

He gives me a confused glance, but sets Ashley Davies back down on my bed and we exit my room. Once we arrive at the elevator, I nervously begin to press the button for the elevator repeatedly.

"In a hurry?" Aiden teases focused on my finger jabbing the button which is clearly lit and not going to make the elevator arrive any sooner.

"No, just generally an impatient person. Normally, I take the stairs," I explain.

Aiden grabs my hand and leads me away saying, "Then we'll take the stairs."

"Aiden, the stairs are this way," I correct tugging on his hand.

"You wanna race?" he says with a raised eyebrow.

"No, not really. I've decided there will be no competition, since I don't want to give you any opportunities to make up for putt-putt," I tell him, getting used to the feeling of his hand in mine.

Minutes later, we are outside walking to his car in the parking lot. Aiden opens the door of his classic convertible mustang for me and shuts it behind me. It's totally restored and in fantastic condition and I take a good look around as I wait for him to get in.

"Nice car," I tell him as he gets into the drivers seat.

"Thanks. I restored it myself," he informs me. "Eventually I want to open my own shop so we can restore cars or customize them. It's been a dream of mine ever since I got my first job as a mechanic in high school."

So that's what he does. I remember him saying that now.

"That's awesome," I concur.

"Being a mechanic doesn't pay the big bucks, but if I keep saving, I should have enough to open my own place in a few years," he tells me.

We ride with the top down and I have to laugh inwardly at the fact that I'm riding in another convertible on my date. I decide this time, I would keep my comment about kissing the inventor of the convertible to myself.

We arrive at Aiden's house fifteen minutes later and he has everything ready to go. He pops a tray of asparagus into the oven and gets me a drink. I sit out on the patio while he grills our steaks so we can talk. The table is already set and I absently twirl my fork as he takes a seat next to me while the steaks are cooking.

"So who taught you how to cook?" I ask.

"My mom mostly and the rest on my own. My parents got divorced when I was young and my dad lives in San Fran now. My mom is a nurse and she works a lot, so I grew up trying to help out when I could," he explains.

Dinner is amazing and I have to give Aiden credit where credit is due. I compliment him on his cooking skills, which he humbly accepts.

"Save some room for popcorn," he tells me with a wink as we finish up dinner. "That's the best part."

I help him clear the table and wash the dishes before we start our movie. As promised, Aiden pops a fresh bag of popcorn and sets the bowl on my lap. After dinner, I'm not really hungry, but who can resist popcorn while watching a movie? He places the movie in the DVD player and takes the spot next to me on the couch.

"I'll just keep the popcorn on my lap if you want some," I tell Aiden.

"Ok. But just so you know sometimes I confuse popcorn with boobs, so I can't be held responsible for what I end up grabbing in the dark," he jokes.

"Real smooth," I inform him sarcastically.

"I'm just sayin," he returns with a grin.

We watch the movie and there was no popcorn/boob confusion. Mainly because ten minutes into the movie, Aiden grabs my hand and links my fingers with his. His thumb strokes random patterns across my knuckles and I'm completely surprised by how gentle his touch is. After the movie ends, we just sit talking on the couch for a few minutes, when the front door opens. A dark haired middle aged women walks in clad in baby blue scrubs.

"Hey honey," she says to Aiden. "Oh, I didn't realize you had company tonight."

"Mom," Aiden greets. "I'd like you to meet Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom, Barb."

"Hello, Spencer. Nice to meet you," Aiden's mother says and sets her keys on the table. "Aiden's told me so much about you."

I can't help but smile at the fact that Aiden has totally been busted about talking about me by his mother. Since his parents are divorced, I decide not to address her as Mrs. Dennison. Even though I feel somewhat awkward, I say, "Nice to meet you too, Barb."

"So how are you liking L.A. so far?" she asks.

"It's really great. I'm starting to get used to everything here. I might just stay here after I finish school," I tell her.

She gives me a warm smile and I can see that aside from the dark hair, there's not too much that reminds me of Aiden in the way she looks. All of us spend the next few minutes chatting and eventually Barb excuses herself.

"Your mom is really cool," I tell him.

"I know. She's not half bad. And she makes the best home made meatballs on the face of the planet," he says. "I know I'm twenty and should probably be looking for a place of my own, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make to save some money until I get my business started. My mom isn't here that much and when she is, we always get along great."

"It's nice that you get along with your mom. My mom is kind of a bitch," I say.

Aiden laughs and returns, "I'm sure she can't be that bad."

"Oh she is. That's why I'm two thousand miles away from her. She was all up in my business and signed me up for online dating without even asking me first," I disagree.

"Well I can't fault her for that. We never would have met if she didn't," he reasons.

"Good point," I concede.

Aiden offers to take me back to my dorm and I figure it's about time to go back. He walks me back up to my door and says, "I had a really great time tonight, Spencer."

"Me too," I agree.

"I'd really like to see you again sometime. And um, just to let you know, I'm not seeing anyone else. I haven't even logged on since our date Saturday. If you want to see other people too, that's fine, I just didn't want you to think that I'm like a player or anything," he reveals nervously.

"Okay. I'd like to hang out again too. I'm not planning on going back on the site either," I inform him.

He flashes me a smile and continues, "Good. I will call you later."

He rests his finger under my chin and draws it up so our eyes meet. My heart is racing, because I know exactly what is coming next. Aiden leans forward and places a soft kiss on my lips.

"Goodnight, Spencer," he says.

"Goodnight," I respond and retreat to my dorm room.

Once inside, I absently rub my lips and wonder what the hell I'm getting myself into.

Ashley POV:

It's been over a week since the whole radio interview fiasco. I've been busy flying and driving to random different radio stations dong interviews and playing some of my songs here and there all the while not being able to get Spencer out of my head.

I've really missed her, but at least we've had a few conversations since then. I can't help but feel that she's wierded out by the photos being taken from our date. It seems like she's been almost distant the past few days and I hope seeing her tonight will correct that.

If I wasn't going to a frat party, I'd probably wear something super slutty, but my goal tonight is not to be recognized. So, I opt to go as a surgeon. I look like an extra on Grey's Anatomy when I have my surgical mask and bonnet on. If it means drinking through a straw tonight, so be it. The only way that this mask is coming off is if I end up in a steamy lip lock with Spencer.

I call her to let her know I'm here and she tells me she will meet me downstairs. Some student held the door for me, so I walk into the lobby with my scrubs and mask on and wait for Spencer. I see her get off the elevator and take a look around. She looks right at me and I'm glad the mask covers up my smile as I realize she doesn't even recognize me.

Spencer is dressed like a scantily clad angel and I'm so thankful that Halloween translates into hot girls dress like hookers night. I walk over to her and ask, "Are you looking for me?" and lower the mask so she can see it's me.

"Oh my God! Way to be incognito, rockstar," she mumbles. "I didn't even recognize you."

"Good, then my plan is working. I'm not Ashley tonight. Tonight, I'm just Alison Davis, college studen" I tell her.

"What?" Spencer returns with a chuckle.

"It's my alias. So I can fly under the radar tonight," I explain and fish out my fake I.D. to show her.

She takes it from my hand and inspects it before returning it to me.

"I like Ashley better, but I'm okay hanging out with Alison tonight," Spencer decides.

Normally, I would say something witty back, but I'm too busy taking in every inch of skin Spencer is willing to show tonight.

"You look hot," I finally manage to get out.

"Really? You don't think I look too slutty?" Spencer asks.

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Spence. There is no such thing as too slutty," I clarify with a playful smile. "Besides, I think you look perfect."

"Come on," Spencer instructs grabbing my hand so she can lead me back out the door. "I hope you don't mind walking there."

I certainly don't mind walking at all if it means that I get to continue to hold Spencer's hand. In fact, I make it a point not to let it go as we walk. We make casual conversation on the way and my fears about her being distant are slightly relieved as our instant chemistry quickly returns now that we are in each others presence again.

The party appears to be in full swing and there's a few students standing outside, so I pull my mask over my face before we approach them. Both of us pass through the group and Spencer gets a few glances from horny pledges. Not that I'm any better because I'm looking at her like she's a hot fudge sundae and I'm on a low carb diet.

We enter the party and a few of the frat brothers instantly recognize her and say their hellos, handing us each our plastic cups. Spencer and I wander over to the keg and let some pledge boy fill them up for us.

One of the frat guys who is dressed like a nerd, complete with pocket protector and thick glasses pulls Spencer into a hug and says, "I'm so glad you made it Spencer. Chelsea is back at the beer pong table and we are looking for a team to play against."

"Ok," Spencer agrees. "Clay, I'd like you to meet Ash…Alison," she stammers and shoots me a look of embarrassment at her almost slip.

"Nice to meet you," the nerd I now know as Clay says and extends his hand.

We shake hands and I reply, "Nice to meet you too Clay."

Clay hands the pledge an empty pitcher and demands he fill it up. After Clay has a fresh round, Spencer and I follow him through the crowded living room into the kitchen where a female nerd is waiting for his arrival.

"Spencerrrrrrrr," the female nerd squeals and gives her a drunken hug. The drunk female nerd is wearing a plaid skirt and glasses, but she doesn't look nearly as nerdy as her boyfriend Clay.

"You must be Ashley," she says wide eyed, looking at me.

I shoot Spencer a glance and she pulls the girl back so she can whisper something in her ear. Embarrassed, the girl pulls away and says, "Sorry, ALISON," enunciating every letter of my fake name. "I'm Chelsea, Spencer's roommate and I'm a big fan of yours."

Clay looks very confused by the whole exchange and I can't help but laugh at Chelsea's not so smooth cover up and return, "Thanks, Chelsea. It's nice to meet you."

I'm slightly excited about the possibility of playing beer pong and being able to act like a normal college student tonight, but I'm more excited about the possibility of Spencer getting drunk while doing so and maybe getting some quality time with her in a very dark corner of this party.


	9. Trouble

Ashley POV:

One of my new favorite sounds is the sound of a ping pong ball spinning into a plastic cup before landing in an inch of cheap skunky beer. It's only because that sound elicits touching from Spencer. I don't care if it's a high five, a fist bump or her pulling me closer to strategize, I can't help but notice there is more and more of it as the night wears on.

We've been dominating the beer pong table tonight. After shutting out Chelsea and Clay, we have been on a three game winning streak. I can't say for sure, but I think it might have something to do with Spencer's angelic cleavage being so damn distracting. I'm glad I don't have to stare at it when I'm ready to toss.

I hear my favorite sound again, but this time, it's to signal a ball being sunk in one of our cups. Spencer quickly scoops up the cup and to my surprise I realize they only have on cup left. She pounds her beer and hands me one of the neon balls.

"Ash," she slurrs into my ear.

I'm on alert as her body is swaying dangerously close to mine and I'm equally as intoxicated as Spencer.

"We gotta win this game. That dude is a total asshole," she informs me and nods over at the competing team.

Across the wooden table stands who I infer the total asshole is. He's dressed like a genie and his crotch is sprouting a giant gold lamp that reads "Rub me". My three wishes are for this ass clown are 1) I wish I didn't just puke in my mouth after seeing him 2) I wish he'd stop eye fucking Spencer and 3) I wish I could sink this last shot because it may just result in more friendly contact from Spencer.

Her eyes are a hazy blue and threatening to be overtaken by dark pupils. I'm not sure if it's from the alcohol, the dark lighting inside or her liking what she see's when she looks at me, but I'm hoping for a healthy combination of the first and last.

"K," I mumble back to her under my seriously itchy mask. I'm quickly growing to hate this thing, but at least nobody recognized me yet.

I inhale as I draw my hand back and with my drunk vision try to focus on where I need that ball to land in the final cup on their end. I let go and promptly hear the sound of the ping pong ball thud into the glass.

"That's game bitches!" Spencer taunts to the opposing team and shoves the remaining cup of beer in their direction to finish.

"Should you be saying bitches?" I ask and tap on her halo to remind her of her costume choice.

"Absolutely. I'm a naughty angel," Spencer clarifies. "Now give me a fucking hug already!"

With that she smashes her body into mine with such force, I almost fall over until my lower back connects with the kitchen counter. Somehow, I manage to keep us upright, but now all I can feel is Spencer's uncontrollable laughter as she shakes against me. She lets out a snort and now I start laughing at her. Our arms are still locked around each other as our fit of giggles slowly subsides and we realize that we've been ousted from our spot at the beer pong table.

We look over as the new game has already begun and I shrug at her and comment, "Oh well. We had a good run."

"We do better as partners than competitors," Spencer opines.

"Agreed," I return to her and we break apart from our hug position that we've been in far too long to go unnoticed and far too short for my taste.

I walk over to the pong table and grab my beer, lifting my mask slightly to make room for my straw. I turn around to find some pretty boy put his arm around Spencer and she turns to face him. To my horror (it is a Halloween party after all), she stands on her tiptoes and gives him a kiss. It lasts far too long to be just a friendly kiss and makes my stomach turn a little.

As I approach they part lips and I hear the douche ask, "Spence, what are you doing here?"

I eye up the situation as I near and see that at least the kiss wasn't completely unmerited. The guy is wearing a chef's hat and an apron that says kiss the cook and is clutching a wooden spoon.

"My roommate's boyfriend is in this frat," Spencer responds. "What are you doing here?"

The chef pulls her even closer and says, "My buddy from high school is in this frat too. I didn't mean to interrupt your girls night."

"It's okay Aiden. I really want you to meet my friend Ashl..ah fuck." Spencer stops abruptly. "Alison?" she finishes in high pitched voice.

"Is that Ashley Davies?" Aiden asks while searching my face.

"The one and only," I reply giving up my anonymity for a minute. "But can you do me a favor and keep it between us?"

His eyes dart from mine to Spencer's and he hesitantly asks her, "Is she for real?"

Spencer's boy toy might be hot, but he obviously spent some time eating paint chips as a small child.

"Yeah, she is," Spencer concurs with a giggle.

We spend the next hour or so getting to know each other. Read: Making polite conversation while trying not to notice that there is equally as much touching between Aiden and Spencer as there was between her and me earlier. I knew going to the east coast for so long was a bad idea. It's a good thing I already have plans in place for her.

A song comes on and Aiden asks, "Hey do you mind if I steal her from you for a second? I love this song!"

"Only if it's for a second," I return and mutter under my mask as they walk away, "Cause that's all your going to get."

Luckily, a few songs later, Chelsea saunters over sans Clay and wraps her arm around me and leads me into the living room where it's dark and thumping with bass loud enough to feel the vibration under my feet. "So, are you going to just stand here and watch them or are you gonna fight for my girl?"

"Huh?" I retort, leaning in to hear that she really did say what I thought she said and poke at the bottom of my empty beer cup with my straw.

"You like her," Chelsea asserts loudly in my ear and pulls away quickly.

"Well, yeah. She's cool, but we are just friends," I reply cooly. As if my heart isn't aching just letting that sentence roll off my tongue.

Chelsea grabs a pitcher of beer from a passing frat boy and fills up my cup and hers. She gives a nod in Spencer and Aiden's direction, where they are currently grinding on the dance floor.

"No offense. Cuz you are a big rock star and all and I barely know you, but I like Spencer. And I'm drunk, so I'm just gonna say this," she starts. "You better not be pulling an Ashley Davies with her."

I laugh because she doesn't need to explain to me what an Ashley Davies is. I invented it. Literally. It's a whole new level of whorishness that I'm not too proud of at the moment.

"No," I say and look her in the eyes. I look around quickly and decide to take a risk. Quickly, I remove my mask, hoping it's dark enough in the living room that my features aren't completely visible. "Spencer is different. She's not a one night stand. I just want to get to know her, that's all. I don't even think she plays for my team, but honestly, I really like being around her," I elaborate as earnestly as I can.

I take a long swig of my beer as Chelsea looks at me stoically for what feel like forever and eventually cracks a smile. "All right. You can put that thing back on. I believe you, now we just need to see if Spencer feels the same way and we are not going to be able to do that with Aiden hanging all over her."

"Okay, but why?" I ask and quickly fasten the elastic loops of the mask around my ears.

"Well for starters, she sleeps with that damn giraffe every night. And after watching you two together, well, um, let's just call it a hunch. I've said too much already," Chelsea rambles.

At least I know that I have somebody on my side. Just then the Genie from the beer pong table walks by us and I get an idea.

"Hey, you!" I yell to the Genie.

He pokes himself in the chest with an index finger and flashes me look of confusion.

"Yeah you, Aladdin," I clarify and grab his lantern crotch and drag him across the room.

"Easy on the merchandise Doc. This genie only comes out to play with a gentle rub," he says with a smirk.

He's lucky he's got two feet of foamy protecting surrounding his crotch, because I really want to kick him in the balls right now. Chelsea looks equally as disgusted, but Clay appears and wraps her into his arms and they start making out.

"See that couple over there?" I question and nod over towards Spencer and Aiden.

"Yeah, the Carlin chick? She's in my Bio class and she's so hot," he reveals.

"If I gave you a hundred bucks, do you think you could distract her man for a little bit?" I ask and pull out a crisp Benjamin Franklin from my bra.

He gingerly takes it from my fingers and nods. "Your wish is my command," he says and tries to make his way through the crowded party without hitting random party-goers with his giant lantern.

Spencer is still dancing with Aiden, and I have to choke back a laugh as the Genie approaches Spencer from behind and starts grinding on her with his lantern. I follow so I can get a front row seat to the action. Spencer looks a little pissed about it, but I don't dwell on it for long, because the Genie quickly makes enemies with Aiden. I suspect a meathead like Aiden would have no problem knocking out an asshole, but I'm quickly proven wrong when the Genie who is clearly working hard for his hundred bucks, shoves Aiden without provocation.

Instead of hitting him, Aiden simply grabs the sides of the Genie's vest, lifting him off the ground slightly.

"Listen, I'm not going to ask you again. Leave her alone," Aiden commands before setting him on the ground.

"Woah dude. Didn't realize she was spoken for. My apologies," the genie spits out and turns to face Spencer. "And to you too."

"It's cool," Aiden responds and pulls Spencer tightly against him.

Genie better get his lantern ass working, because I didn't just blow a hundred bucks to watch someone else's hands all over Spencer's body.

"Nah, hey I wanna make it up to you," he starts and then 'accidentally' spills his beer all over Aiden and Spencer.

Spencer lets out a little shriek as the liquid runs down her chest. I'm beginning to think this was the biggest waste of a hundred dollars, but then the Genie starts to try to dry off Spencer's wet chest with his hands.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?" Aiden growls and shoves the Genie back.

"Sorry, sorry," the Genie mumbles as he tries to gain his footing. As soon as he does, he suddenly charges at Aiden barreling into him lantern crotch and all.

Genie isn't a small guy, but Aiden barely budges at the contact and pushes him down to the ground and says with a laugh, "Are you serious right now? I don't want to fight you!"

"Listen, if you can handle this party tough guy, why don't you just get the fuck out of my frat house?" the Genie challenges, dusting himself off.

Aiden gives a quick glance to Spencer who is still trying to dry off her arms and chest and replies, "I think that's the smartest thing you've said all night."

Spencer looks over to me and motions me to follow as Aiden leads her away from the center of the dance floor as the onlookers gawk, disappointed there won't be a fight. The genie grabs ahold of Spencer's hand and continues, "I didn't mean you had to leave, beautiful."

The genie then smashes his lips against hers and Spencer pulls away as quickly as she can. Just when I thought Aiden was about to loose his shit, I saw Spencer draw back and punch the guy in the face. He stumbled backwards and started dabbing at his nose, which was already starting to trickle blood. Spencer gives a smirk at the sight of her handiwork and says, "Don't ever touch me again, got it?"

There is a round of applause and a few whistles directed towards Spencer. Embarrassed, the genie huffs over to the keg and takes his rage out on some poor pledge.

Finally, Aiden and Spencer turn to leave I follow, but stop at the Genie and give him a shove on my exit. "Way to go, douchebag!"

Spencer and Aiden are saying goodbyes to one of the guys there and I continue to make my way out to the kitchen. On the way out, Chelsea grabs my arm and says, "What the hell happened?"

"Um. I didn't know that Genie was going to go all Hulk Hogan on his ass," I guilty admit.

Chelsea laughs and says, "At least it's kinda working."

She points over to Spencer who is pounding a beer as she wanders closer to us.

Spencer walks over to us and yells, "Can you believe that guy?"

Aiden follows behind her and asks, "Are you guys ready? I need to get out of here before I do something I will regret, like finish what Spencer started."

Spencer just nods and I follow her lead. Chelsea replies, "I might head back to the dorm in a few hours. I can't sleep with Clay when he's wasted. He gets all twitchy and I'm afraid he's going to knock me off the bed.""Ok," Spencer says. "See you later then."

Chelsea leans is toward me and whispers, "I won't be coming back tonight, and while you are more than welcome to crash in my bed, if you don't crash in my bed, your ass better be in hers."

She gives me a playful wink and I just roll my eyes at her. Her costume is all wrong. She shouldn't be dressed like a nerd, she should have gone as a matchmaker.

"Bye Chelsea," I reply with a chuckle and walk outside just in time to see Aiden give Spencer a kiss goodnight. Perfect timing.

"Goodnight Ashley. It was nice meeting you," Aiden offers and swallows me into a hug. "But I guess it's time for me to leave. Spencer won't even let me give you two a ride back to the dorm."

"It's a nice night and a little walking will do us good," Spencer explains. "I need to get rid of this energy."

"Nice to meet you Aiden," I return to Aiden. As much as I seriously want to hate him, I don't. Then because I don't, I kinda do. Damn this whole situation. "But you should listen to Spencer. You wouldn't want to piss her off and end up with a bloody nose."

"True," Aiden agrees. "It was kind of hot, though."

Spencer looks away, embarrassed and Aiden decides to get in his car before she takes another swing. Oh no, wait. I think that was me who was thinking about taking a swing.

Spencer POV:

"Where did you learn to hit like that?" Ashley asks me as soon as the rumbling from Aiden's car subsides once he travels down the street.

"My older brother thought I was a human punching bag for the first ten years of my life, so my dad pulled me aside one day and taught me the importance of throwing a good punch. After a few bloody noses, Glen finally figured out that I was like a limp dick…nothing to fuck with."

"Yeah, um, wrong audience for that analogy, Spence," Ashley replies with a chuckle and nudges into me.

"Come on. That was hilarious," I defend my cheesy line. "I don't care who you are, that was funny!"

"All right, it was kinda funny," Ashley admits.

My adrenaline is wearing off and now I feel much more drunk than I did twenty minutes ago. We spend the rest of the walk being completely ridiculous. I'm staggering to make it back to the dorms and even Ashley can barely walk in a straight line. I check her in to my dorm and we take the elevator up to my room.

In my drunken state, I can barely take my eyes off of Ashley. Not being able to see her face tonight has been strange, like I can't read her at all. After we get into my room, I shut the door behind us and start to babble, "I'm sorry about the drama tonight. And Aiden. I didn't know he was going to be there. And then that whole thing with that genie asshole."

I trail off as I notice Ashley turn her gaze away from me. I get closer and she says, "I should leave."

"No way, you are not driving anywhere tonight," I command. "Now can you finally take off that freaking mask so I can have a normal conversation with you?"

I hear her sigh and she raises her hands to her ears to remove the mask, but I wrap my hands around her hands and stop her with, "No. Let me do it."

Ashley drops her hands to her sides in surrender. My drunk fingers don't cooperate as much as I would like them to, but after a few seconds of fumbling, I locate the straps. I'm too busy staring into her eyes to look at the rest of her newly exposed face.

"Better?" Ashley finally speaks, pulling me out of my trance.

I just shake my head and gently pull off her turquoise cap covering her hair. Dark curls cascade around her face and I push a strand back behind her ear so I have a better look at her face.

"There you are," I remark matter-of-factly.

"Here I am," Ashley returns and gives me a soft smile.

We stand close to each other exploring each other's expressions in our drunken state. It's the first time I've gotten the chance to see her lips all night and I am consumed with an overwhelming urge to kiss her. My inhibitions are altered to the point where I just might. Before my self control fails me, Ashley pulls me into an embrace.

"Don't be mad at me when I tell you this," she whispers into my ear.

My body is frozen against hers as I register what she just said. She pulls away and sighs before she spits out, "I may or may not have paid the genie a hundred bucks to try to get you away from Aiden tonight."

"What? I think I might have broken my knuckles on his face!" I yell.

"I didn't think he was going to be a total dickhead about it. I figured he would just be annoying. Did you really hurt your hand?" she asks and gently grabs my right palm, inspecting the top of my hand.

Before I can say anything she places a soft kiss on my knuckles, which makes the throbbing in my hand subside or maybe it's just my brain concentrating on her lips on my skin. She lightly blows over the skin where her lips just left, leaving a cooling sensation.

Her brown eyes look up into mine and she simply says, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. I guess I just wanted you all to myself."

"Well, you got me all to yourself," I return with a goofy crooked smile.

"I did?" Ashley questions.

"Yeah, I don't see anyone else in this room," I explain.

"So you're not mad at me?" Ashley asks shooting me a set of puppy dog eyes.

I shake my head at her pathetic attempt to get forgiveness from me. Truth be told, there is no need for that. As much as I didn't like the events that unfolded tonight, I like the way things are turning out.

"No, but that doesn't mean you are off the hook yet," I warn.

I have no idea what that means and I seriously hope Ashley doesn't ask. She does flash me a smile that is completely infectious and contemplates my words. I try to keep my calm façade up so that she thinks I'm still slightly upset.

"I'm okay with that. I promise I will make it up to you tomorrow if your free," Ashley says.

"In that case, you should get some rest for tomorrow. You're going your energy for all of the groveling you are going to do!" I tease.

I pluck the halo headband from my hair and walk over to the dresser where I grab two sets of pjs and toss them on the bed.

"Those won't be necessary," Ashley says raising her eyebrows at the sight of the pajamas on my bed. "I sleep in the nude."

I just laugh awkwardly and try not to think about Ashley being nude, but it is completely her fault for bringing up that topic in the first place. Ashley grabs the pajamas and starts to get ready for bed and I do the same. She changes a lot faster than I do, because I am having a hard time getting out of my costume. While I finish, she walks over to the mini-fridge and grabs a can of Coke zero.

"Sorry, I'm not a very good hostess, help yourself," I say as I slide on my shorts.

Ashley is standing next to my bed holding the can and replies, "It's not for me. Come here."

I do as she instructs and fall into my bed. She grabs my hand and holds the can against my fingers. I can tell by the way she is looking at me that she still feels bad about what happened tonight. All I can think about again is kissing her, but I can't. I can physically. I sooo can. I just shouldn't. Not helping matters is the fact that my bed is a ridiculously tiny twin bed and she is going to be inches away from me all night. God help me.

I pull up the covers and the only thing between me and the real Ashley Davies is the stuffed Ashley Davies. The real Ashley notices my attention and starts to pet the giraffe as she comments, "I'm afraid I take up a bit more room than this Ashley."

"Yeah, but that Ashley can't snuggle with me," I return.

My drunk mouth is my best friend and my worst enemy at the same time. I can't believe I just worked up the balls to say that.

"Well as a general rule, this Ashley doesn't snuggle either," she quips and I feel completely stupid.

"Oh, I um. It was just a joke," I mumble and turn on my side away from her so I can curse myself without Ashley having to witness it.

I hear the sound of Ashley setting the can of soda on the dresser followed by her tossing the stuffed animal out of the bed and onto the floor. "I hope it wasn't a joke, because that other Ashley was starting to piss me off. Bragging about how much better she was at cuddling with you," Ashley says.

Her arm snakes around my waist and she scoots my body lightly against her body, making me the inner spoon.

"What about the rules?" I question. "I thought you don't snuggle."

"Rules were meant to be broken, Spence. I think I can make an exception for you."

We spend few minutes in silence and I relish the slight contact of our skin. My thoughts are still racing with the desire to kiss her, but everything is so complicated. Ashley must be able to sense the tension in my body as my thoughts shift to Aiden and how I feel completely guilt ridden over what is going on between Ashley and me.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks softly.

"About Aiden," I begin, but Ashley cuts me off.

"So you really are dating that guy?" Ashley asks timidly.

"Yeah. I mean, we have only been hanging out for a few weeks. It's nothing serious, but I do like him," I start.

I don't like where this topic is headed, but I like even less that Ashley responds my loosening her grip on my side.

"What about me?" Ashley presses and I can feel her breath as it grazes my ear.

I shiver against her and say, "What about you?"

"Well I know I'm not exactly what you would call girlfriend material," she says.

"So you've said," I return.

If she didn't know now, she will. I heard the radio interview on the stations website, which made me feel like a Google stalker. I'm still struggling to identify how I feel about the interview. Obviously, we aren't together and I don't know what expectations I have for Ashley, but I can't help but feel conflicted about what she said. It's been building up and tonight's awkwardness have made it apparent that I have to get this out sooner than later.

"You heard the interview, huh?"

"Yes, I did," I say.

"Spence, you know the reason why I said what I did? I was completely caught off guard by the whole thing. I want you to know that I didn't want our business all over the place after just one incredible date," Ashley explains.

I can't fault her for that and what I have to say is a million times more difficult. "Ash, I don't blame you. I really don't. I just realized that maybe I don't know how to handle dating a celebrity. The fact that people are falling all over themselves to take pictures and get autographs when we are together in public. I've never even dated a girl before and it's hard enough to try to figure this out between just you and me, let alone with all of our outings being on the tabloids or you having to be in disguise."

"It doesn't have to be that difficult, Spence. Just you and me. Like right now. You can't tell me that there isn't just a tiny part of you that wonders if what we have might be worth it?" Ashley pleads with a crack in her voice.

I close my eyes as her words sink in. In these moments of just us, it doesn't matter. There's no doubt she is right about that. To strengthen her cause, she pulls me closer and any resolve I had is beginning to fade like the pain in my hand.

"What if we just get to know each other first and see where this goes," I suggest. "It's not like I'm getting married to Aiden tomorrow. You and I have got plenty of time to figure this out."

"If that is what you want, then that's what we will do," Ashley agrees and I wonder if she seriously means it.

I'm too drunk to keep having this deep conversation with Ashley and luckily she let's me drop the subject as we both fall asleep.


	10. This is Why Pumpkins are Dangerous

A/N: First sorry for the delay posting the last chapter, I was struggling with it for a while. And then when I finally did write it, I was kinda jerking your chain the whole time. This chapter should make up for my bad behavior (maybe?). Many of you were asking for more Spashley, so here you go. Thanks for the continued love, even when I don't deserve it!

Ashley's POV:

Waking up next to Spencer just made my morning. As much as I want to stay in bed forever, because I love sleep and I like Spencer, I really have too pee. When I return, Spencer is already up and awake and dressed.

"Good morning," she greets from her perch on her bed.

"Good morning," I return.

I don't know why I'm suddenly feeling awkward around her. The conversation from last night has me a little shaken. Not knowing what else to do, I grab a spot on the bed next to her.

"So, what are we gonna do today?" Spencer asks and looks up at me with a smile.

"I have been thinking about what you said last night," I start and even I can hear the hesitation in my voice.

Spencer's smile quickly fades and she scrunches her eyebrows together as she tries to understand what I'm talking about.

"It's not bad, Spence," I add and can't stop myself from reaching out to touch her forearm to reassure her. "It's what you said about getting to know each other. I do really want to get to know you and you know what the best activity is for conversation?" I ask and reluctantly slide my fingers from her wrist.

"Um. Eating," Spencer guesses.

"That isn't bad," I admit, "But it isn't what I am thinking. Although, I think we have plenty of time to get some lunch too. I was actually thinking that we could carve pumpkins."

"Really?" Spencer checks with skepticism.

"Yeah, and I hear it really helps with a hangover, too. We should go get some today," I suggest. "It's a bit of a drive, so you have to be in the mood for a road trip."

"Mmm. Only if I can drive the Porsche," Spencer negotiates. "It's part of the groveling for the genie fiasco."

"Porsche?" I repeat like a moron.

"Please, I promise I will take care of your baby," Spencer begs with a pouty lip.

"Fine, but I get control of the radio," I agree with a smirk.

Less than an hour later, I am dressed in Spencer's clothes and we are ready to go. She drives my baby out to lunch and then to a farmers market and somehow we make it there in one piece. As soon as I can, I take the keys back. I may really like this girl, but I still love my car too and Spencer likes speed and curves too much for me to let her behind the wheel again soon.

"Wow, you really don't trust me with the car, do you Ash?" Spencer teases.

"Consider yourself lucky, Spence. The only other person besides me who has ever driven it is Madison," I tell her. "And I might not have it for much longer."

Spencer looks at me with confusion. I contemplate just coming clean about the bet with her right now. All I have to do is say the words. Straw crunches beneath our feet as we near the pumpkin patch and I continue my internal debate.

"Why would you get rid of it if you like it so much?" Spencer asks.

My brain sends the same thought waves of because I like you more repeatedly to my mouth, but luckily I'm not crazy enough to say that.

Instead, I explain, "It's a long story. I made a bet with Madison a while back and it doesn't look so good for me and the Porsche."

"You bet the Porshe!" Spencer exclaims.

"Yep, and that's not even the worst part," I begin.

It's now or never. After the genie incident last night, Spencer wasn't mad at me, but the bet is so much worse than paying a guy to annoy Aiden.

"Do I want to know the worst part?" she asks.

I adjust my sunglasses on my face and focus on looking ahead so I don't have to look her in the eyes. I can't handle that. Spencer stops walking and I stop after noticing she hasn't moved in the five steps I've taken.

"It doesn't make me look very good," I admit and turn to face her. "I'm not proud of it, either."

"Jesus Ash, did you make a bet that you could kill someone and get away with it? You're starting to scare me."

"No, it's not that. Spence…I…made a bet that I could…" I begin, but before I can get out another word, a little girl around the age of four comes crashing into my leg, hugging it.

"Awshwee!" the little girl screams.

"Hey, what's your name?" I ask with a laugh.

Fate obviously had other plans than total honesty for me right now. The little girl looks up at me and flashes me a giant smile with the most adorable set of dimples I've ever seen. She has pigtails overflowing with blonde curls and bright blue eyes. For some reason, I imagine Spencer looked a lot like this little girl.

"Brianna," the little girl proudly proclaims.

She lets go of my leg and I kneel on the ground so I can talk to her for a second.

"You are my favorite!" Brianna shrieks.

"Thank you. Where is your mommy?" I ask and think I spot her mother scanning the people milling around over with a look of panic on her face.

Brianna looks and points to her mother and it is the flustered woman I suspected.

"Do you want to meet my friend Spencer?" I ask.

The little girl nods nervously and I wave Spencer over so she can meet her. "Spencer, this is my friend Brianna."

"Hi, Brianna. It's nice to meet you. Are you going to get a pumpkin today?" Spencer asks.

Again the little girl nods and continues to stare at Spencer. Spencer gives me a glance with a smile and continues to ask the girl another question. "Are you going to get a big one or a little one?"

Silently, Brianna spreads her arms as wide as they can reach.

"Wow, that is a very big pumpkin! How are you going to carry it?" I ask.

Brianna gives a simple shrug and says, "My mommy will help me."

"Well, let's go find her then," I say.

I grab Brianna's hand and we begin to walk to her mother and return her daughter. I'm sure her daughter constantly runs up to random celebrities. I make pleasant conversation with the mother and wonder where the hell Spencer went.

Just as I was about to leave so I could locate Spencer, she returns with a tiny gourd with a bright orange paid sticker on it. She is also carrying a sharpie and says, "I got you a pumpkin, Brianna. Do you want Ashley to sign it?"

Again the little girl nods and I think Spencer makes her a little nervous, since she can't respond verbally to a single question Spencer asks. Spencer hands me the pumpkin and a sharpie. "This will be the first time I've ever signed a pumpkin before," I tell them all as I leave my autograph and hand it over to Brianna.

We say our goodbyes and Spencer returns the sharpie to the woman at the register with a quick thank you. I know it can't be easy for Spencer with the multiple interruptions, but I also know that this will be worth it as long as my plans go the way they are supposed to. And I'm actually thankful that Brianna's distraction I didn't get to confess to Spencer about the bet. I have every intention of doing so, but want to wait until the right moment.

"Sorry about that," I mumble as we near the display of pumpkins and we start searching for our jack-o-lanterns.

"Don't be. She was adorable and you were great with her," Spencer says.

"Good. I think you scared her though," I tease.

Spencer shoots me a look of disbelief and questions, "What? Why would you say that?"

"Because she's was totally tongue tied around you," I inform her smugly and scoop a pumpkin from the top of a nearby stack.

"Oh and is that your excuse too Ash?" Spencer quips as she taps on a pumpkin, but quickly dismisses it.

I barely remember the last time I carved a pumpkin, so it only took me two seconds to find tjhe pumpkin I think will be sufficient. On the other hand, Spencer is like a Nasa scientist, using some sort of complex algorithm to determine which one she wants. Spencer lightly bites her bottom lip when comparing two similar gourds, making her the bearer of the sexiest look of concentration I've ever seen. Somebody get a shovel, because I might be digging my own grave, but I can't help what I say next.

"I don't get tongue tied because I'm scared of you, I get tongue tied because I think your hot," I contradict, but instantly wish I could take it back.

Spencer tears her attention away from her inspection process to shake her head and flash me a sexy smile.

"Ahh, and look who the tongue tied one is now," I chime in. "You know I've been told I'm actually really good with my tongue if you need help getting it untied."

"Somehow, I don't think that will be necessary, but I really appreciate the offer," Spencer says with a laugh.

"No problem, I was just trying to be considerate," I add with a wink.

Finally after ten more minutes of thoroughly examining and comparing all of the pumpkins on display, she stops.

"I want this one!" Spencer beams, thrusting a medium sized pumpkin into the air.

The smile is engraved on her face while we pay for our pumpkins. After, we head back to my house so we can start the carving. I let Spencer set up the garbage bags on my patio table outside as I locate the carving set I bought the day before. Yeah, I already planned on doing this just for Spencer because I got it bad for this girl.

"Look, Ash. About last night," Spencer starts in a serious tone.

I'm not ready to jump into this conversation head first and ruin the amazing time we are having as I carve out the top of my pumpkin. While she is thinking of what to say next, I interrupt, "Why is Halloween your favorite holiday?"

"Mainly because it reminds me of my dad so much. There are a lot of great memories from this time of year. Like one year, I went as a witch, but it was raining so bad, he had to drive us from house to house in the mini-van. Or the time that Glen stole all my candy half way through trick or treating and I returned home by myself crying. My dad got dressed up in a horrible costume and went back out with me. Carving pumpkins used to be something that we did together," Spencer reminisces.

Spencer removes the top of her pumpkin and takes her first scoop of the seeds and slimy orange innards and plops the handful onto the trash bag lined table.

Meanwhile, I twist off my top and set it on the table so I'm free stroll over behind Spencer and wrap my arms around her. I know I shouldn't. I know I'm crossing too many boundaries, but I can't stop myself from kissing her shoulder softly. She doesn't seem too bothered, so I say, "Your dad sounds pretty special. I wish I would have had the chance to meet him."

"He would have liked you," Spencer informs me.

I can tell she is saddened by the topic of her father. Not wanting to push her more, I change the subject again, "How are you going to carve your pumpkin?"

"I don't know. I'm not much of an artist, that's more of Chelsea's area of expertise. So I guess I'll just let the pumpkin speak to me and see what happens," Spencer replies.

"Really? Do all pumpkins talk to you or just this one? Are there other vegetables that you converse with too?" I continue with my onslaught of inane questions.

Spencer turns around to face me with an annoyed glare, but I'm far too distracted by her body and it's close proximity to mine. I lick my lips nervously, only thinking about how badly I want to kiss her now. Before I can try to melt her lack of amusement away with the aforementioned kiss, she plops a handful of slimy pumpkin guts onto the top of my head.

"Oh no you didn't," I say as a few seeds and stringy orange mess fall in front of my eyes and on the bridge of my nose.

"Oh yes I did," Spencer confirms with a mischievous smirk.

Making sure she is pinned between me and the table, I pull the pulpy mess from my hair and hold it tauntingly in my open hand. My eyes trail from my loaded hand to her face and back to my hand, silently letting her know what my next move is.

I feel her body press against mine as she tries to free herself from me, but my free hand snakes around her waist and pulls her closer. With no other option she tries to turn her head away, but she's too slow and the side of her face is now covered as my empty hand pulls away.

She shrieks as the goop of the pumpkin slides down her cheek and onto the cement at our feet. I'm too busy smiling at myself to notice that Spencer's reaching her hand into her pumpkin ready to return the favor. I am paralyzed by the feeling of her body so close to mine, reacting under every inch that is in contact with her and my face is soon wet and slimy as she presses the mushy stings to my mouth and chin.

I wipe the pumpkin from my mouth and rush back to my jack o lantern to gather up more ammunition while Spencer does the same. Now I have two fist-fulls ready and aimed at Spencer, and she has one poised in my direction.

"You better run," I warn her.

Like a flash, she jolts away from the table and off into my tiny lawn. I follow after her, trying to keep my fingers clenched around the pumpkin meal. It's sliding through my knuckles, but I'm gaining on Spencer and I smash one handful into her golden locks.

She squeals and stops so she can toss her remaining pumpkin bits at me. It hits me square in the forehead and I stumble onto the ground, thankful for my stage acting skills from touring. "AHHHH! It burns!" I yell, wiping at my eyes and keep them shut tightly.

"Oh my God," Spencer mumbles and immediately kneels down on the ground next to me. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay, Ash?"

I do my best acting, as if I'm trying to win an Emmy for this shit. I suck in a breath of air loudly, like I'm still in pain and say shakily, "I don't know. It really hurts when I try to open my eyes."

"Do you need me to get you some water, or eye drops?" she babbles. "Should I call 911?"

My eyes are still closed, but I can feel her coming closer. Her breath is warm on my skin and I just pop open my eyes and reveal a giant smile, before I smear my last handful of pumpkin all over her face.

"Gotchya!" I tease and burst into laughter as she wipes away the rinds from her covered face.

"That is so not funny! I thought you were really hurt!" she sulks, but immediately starts to join in on my bout of laughter. Spencer collapses to the ground beside me, weak from her adrenaline rush and lack of oxygen. I roll on my side to face her as we try to catch our breath.

I watch the rise and fall of her chest as she tries to resume normal breathing and it has me entranced. Everything about her has me under a spell. I look back into her eyes and see that maybe it's the same for her too. As I continue to look into her eyes and all over her pumpkin covered face, the moment turns serious.

"I'm sorry," I whisper and pick a stray pumpkin seed from her cheek. I'm sorry for doing anything that makes her upset with me, even if it's for the tiniest moment. Under the moonlight, I feel like I'm in a dream because these moments between us are the only thing that can take me away from the painful reality that surrounds us. I discard the seed into the grass nearby and my thumb strokes her cheek, which is still damp from the pumpkin war.

"Who knew pumpkins were so dangerous?" Spencer murmurs with a faint smile.

There is nothing more that I want than to kiss her right now. This moment is too perfect to let the opportunity slip through my fingers. With every last ounce of courage and stupidity that I have, I cup her face in my trembling hands fully.

"Not me," I admit and lean in so I can finally feel the warmth of her lips on mine.

Spencer POV:

It's better than I imagined. And I've imagined it plenty. Of all the scenarios that involved Ashley and me kissing, nothing comes close to the reality I'm currently enjoying. From the second she lowered her lips to meet mine, I never wanted it to end. She breaks away from me and I am intoxicated with infusion of the taste of pumpkin, her soft lips and the longing for more.

"I think carving pumpkins just became my favorite activity," she jokes nervously.

I reach for her, drawing her closer to me to let her know that there is no need for any hesitation. "I couldn't agree more," I finally mumble against her lips before giving into another breathless kiss.

The thoughts of Ashley swirl in my head as we continue to explore one another's mouths. I roll her onto her back and start kissing her neck. Her sighs have me completely distracted and she arches into me, making it impossible to concentrate on trailing my lips down her neck the way I really want to.

My phone starts vibrating in my pocket, startling me and I pop up from my position. I let out a frustrated sigh since reality just gave me a seriously painful bitch slap. I pull the phone from my pocket, so I can silence the phone and see 'Mom' across the display. I hit the ignore option and shove the phone back into my pocket.

"Sorry," I apologize about the phone and attempt to kiss Ashley again.

"Was it him?" Ashley asks before my lips can reach her.

"No, it was my mom," I clarify dryly.

I almost wish she didn't ask me if it was Aiden, because now that thought is in the back of my mind. But Ashley looks euphoric at me saying it was my mom that called instead. If she only knew. Her hands gently trail down the small of my back while I continue to kiss her softly on the lips. Begrudgingly, I unlock my lips from hers so I am free to place a series of quick kisses on the side of her neck, before giving in to the realization that my mind is winning the battle against my heart by far too much to continue. I stop kissing her neck and look at her smiling beneath me. Her eyes lock with mine and she recognizes the look of turmoil on my face.

Her fingers graze my wrist and she asks, "What's wrong Spence?"

"You wanna know what's even more dangerous than pumpkins?" I ask not giving Ashley the chance to guess before I finish, "My bitch of a mother."

Ashley gives a polite laugh and pushes a piece of hair away from my face. I can tell by the way she looks at me that she understands that I can't keep kissing her, as much as I want to. I get up from her and grab her hand, pulling her from the ground. We walk in silence back over to our pumpkins. I start carving the eyes on my jack-o-lantern and finally gather the courage to speak.

"I'm sorry Ashley," I say. "My mom. She is the reason why I'm not at home in Ohio going to school. This isn't something that she approves of in any way. I like you and under different circumstances, maybe we could be together. But this isn't fair to anybody, including me. "

"I understand," she acknowledges softly, but just one look at her face makes me certain that she doesn't understand completely.

I don't expect her to understand completely, because I don't understand what the hell is wrong with me and my inability to give in to her either. Quite simply, I enjoy every second we spend together. I set my carving knife down on the table and get closer to her. Ashley is busy concentrating on the pumpkin as if she is performing open heart surgery on it.

"I can just leave. I don't want to, but I understand if you want me to go," I say.

"Don't," she whispers. "Don't go, Spence. Unless you don't want to be with me, then that's okay. Just tell me that. I think that maybe I can handle that. I can even handle seeing you with Aiden, but I can't handle knowing that you feel the same way I feel for you and have you keep me at arms length."

Her confession is too much for me to bear. Every word makes me realize just how strongly I feel for her. My heart is breaking, knowing that it's all my fault that she feels the way she does.

"Ash," I begin not knowing what to say. "You have to give me some time on this. This isn't just some decision I'm trying to make like what to have for dinner. This is me figuring out who I am. This is my life and I'm confused as hell. If I didn't have any feelings for you or Aiden, this would be a whole lot simpler for me. Do you honestly think I want to be in a situation like this? I feel like no matter what I do, I'm going to hurt someone I care about."

Finally, Ashley looks at me with a stoic expression. "You're right. I know what you're going though and I haven't forgotten how difficult and important it is. I only want to be with you if it is what you really want. Besides, the possibility of us is worth waiting for."

I feel like I'm already hurting her and I don't like it at all. I don't want to be the one to break her heart. I don't want to be the one to break Aiden's heart. I don't even want to break my pathetic excuse for a mother's heart. But somebody is going to end up with one and it might even be me.

"I'm going home for Thanksgiving," I inform her. "I just want to see where this goes. If there is any chance that you and me are going to be together, I would want it to be for real. I would have to tell my mom in person. I can't have her just find out through some magazine at the checkout at the supermarket."

Paula is probably going to disown me either way, but I still can't let her find out like that.

"Really? You mean that in less than a month, there is a chance we could be together?" Ashley checks with a hopeful smile.

"Yes," I agree timidly.

I don't want to get her hopes up, only to possibly dash them, but I have to give myself the chance at happiness. Deep down, I wonder why my happiness seems to only be at the end of a long and likely painful journey. Pulling me from my thoughts, Ashley sets down her carving knife and draws me into her arms. I soak in the scent that is distinctly her and feel like for the first time I'm making the right decision, even though it is incredibly hard and bound to hurt some people I really care about.

"Nothing would make me happier," she murmurs into my ear and follows her words with a soft kiss to the side of my neck.


	11. Invitations

Spencer POV:

It's way too early in the morning for me to be doing anything but sleeping. Yet, here I am pulling into the parking lot at some random martial arts studio. It's in a sketchy ass neighborhood and I glance at the clock, which reads 8:04. I'm officially late, but glance around and see the familiar car I was hoping to see before I enter. There is some old school Jay Z blaring and I'm already excited to hit something or someone.

That person might be the pervert who is currently putting his sweaty arm around my waist. I spin to face my molester with my fists raised, but remember I'm at a boxing gym and there is no way in hell I will be able to fight anyone off here.

"Woah, don't hit me!" Aiden says and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. "At least not until you put these on," he continues and hands over a plastic bag.

Inside, there are brand new black boxing gloves and pink hand wraps. I was not expecting anything like this.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to do this for me," I protest, but Aiden quickly puts a finger to my lips.

"How else are you going to work on those punches?" Aiden teases, lowering his index finger from my mouth.

"I love the pink," I say freeing the wraps from the bag. "But I have no idea how to use these."

"No worries. I just finished up and now it's my turn to torture you," Aiden explains with a wink.

He grabs the wraps and makes sure both my hands are completed secure and slides the gloves on for me.

"You better not have to go to the bathroom because it's going to take you a while to get out of those," he says.

Aiden spends the better part of the next hour teaching me about the proper boxing stance and technique for throwing a few basic punches. I have to admit it's a lot harder than I thought it would be. My arms already feel like rubber and I haven't even hit anything yet. I guess I know why I've never seen a fat boxer. It takes a lot of strength just to stand here.

Fortunately, I'm saved by the bell, or my phone as it starts blaring.

"Can you grab that for me?" I ask Aiden with my hands raised to show how obviously unavailable my hands are.

Since he was teaching me, he wasn't wearing any gloves and was the only person who I would want to locate my phone. As I die of embarrassment and everybody looks to the source of the noise. I follow Aiden who looks at my phone in confusion.

"How the hell do you turn this thing off?" he asks tapping at the screen randomly until I hear him breathe, "Ut-oh."

I glance up at his panic stricken face and he points to the phone and gives me a shrug. "Hello. This is Spencer's phone?" Aiden says with unsureness.

"Yes, this is Aiden," he says after a moment and I try to get myself out of my gloves, but struggle with getting the Velcro tab started.

Aiden gives a fake laugh and I have an idea of who this could possibly be and it's my worst nightmare. After a couple more seconds of Aiden listening to the caller, he replies, "No, Spencer didn't tell me that you invited me to Thanksgiving."

Aiden glances back over at me casually, taking pleasure in the fact that I am still working on freeing my hands. Or maybe he is taking pleasure in the look of fear clearly on my face. I feel the blood pumping every last drop through my body wondering what my evil mother could be up to right now.

"Ok. I will let you know for sure, Dr. Carlin, and I will tell her to call you when she is free," Aiden finishes and taps at the screen a few more times until he seems satisfied.

"That was your mom. She thinks I should visit for Thanksgiving," Aiden informs me with a smug grin on his face. "I think she likes me."

"I'm so glad. She likes my boyfriend more than she likes me," I reply sarcastically, flustered from the past minute. And shit. Did I just call him my boyfriend? It's things like this that make me certain I should never wake up before eight am or operate heavy machinery. I can't even control my mouth. There's no way I can take this back and I wonder why I even let it slip from my tongue. I said it. I called him my boyfriend. Maybe I really do like Aiden. Obviously, I do like Aiden. He's a good guy and he would probably be a good boyfriend. He just doesn't make my heart skip a beat, but then maybe you don't need to have that crazy feeling of infatuation to make a relationship work. That fades with time anyhow. There's no heat with him and when it comes to heat, Ashley is like a furnace in January kind of hot.

"Boyfriend? I like the sound of that," Aiden decides with a smile, forcing me out of thoughts that were about to go someplace very dirty.

He wraps me into a hug and mumbles into my ear, "But I don't know about Thanksgiving, yet. Can I just settle for spending my Saturday off with my girlfriend?"

"On one condition," I bargain with the most adorable smile I can muster. "Can you get me out of these gloves?"

Aiden laughs and starts to pull the Velcro tabs apart, but gives me a mischievous smile. "Sure, if you can hit me with your jab."

Aiden starts bobbing and weaving and making me work to land a punch in his outstretched hand. After a minute of chasing him around missing punches, my phone goes off again and I completely miss his hand and hit him in the side of the head.

All I can do is laugh like an idiot while he heads back over to my gym bag to retrieve my phone.

"Do you want me to get this for you?" Aiden asks nodding to the phone, breathlessly.

"Sure why not? It's probably Paula again wanting to see if you prefer pumpkin or apple pie," I joke and attempt to free my hands by myself while Aiden answers the phone.

Ashley POV:

"Hey, is everything ok?" Madison asks me from across the room.

I tear my attention from the notebook on the table in front of me and reply, "Yeah, everything is fine. Why?"

"Because you have been staring at that blank notebook for like twenty minutes now," Madison reveals. "You didn't even notice the coffee I left and it's been here for at least five minutes."

I look down at the empty blue lines of the paper with only one tiny spot in the margin covered in black ink that reads Spencer with a cloud around her name. Just the sight of my schoolgirl-like doodles cause an instinctive smile to form. While I bask in my Spencer induced love-coma, Madison swipes the book from beneath my fingertips.

"Hey hussy, keep you grubby little paws off my intellectual property!" I chide.

"I'd hardly call Spencer's name intellectual property," Madison asserts and turns her back so she can flip through the rest of my notebook. "And I don't see the specs for I-phone six in here."

Bored with my blank notebook, she tosses it back on the table in front of me.

"There is literally nothing in there. What is up with you Davies?"

I run my fingers over the blank page, hoping somehow I can get even a spark of creativity. Madison continues to stare at me waiting for an answer to what I assumed to be a rhetorical question.

"Nothing," I snap. "I just want it to be perfect."

I can tell by the look on her face she's not buying it. "Usually, you can't write fast enough and don't you have some old stuff to build off of?"

"It's not good enough," I reply. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

I notice the cup of coffee on the table next to me that Madison must have brought with her. I've already had one, but two never hurt anybody. Plus, it's from Exceptional Joe's where Spencer and I first met. I take a sip and continue as she waits for more of an explanation from me.

"All I can do is think about Spencer and I can't put into words how I feel about her. It's like there's no way for me to describe it. I mean, I wrote all these songs about love and breakups in the past without any problems," I rationalize.

Madison gives me a faint smile and she's about to go all mother knows best on my ass. "Maybe you don't know how to describe it because you never felt it before. Maybe all those other songs were just about how you thought it was supposed to be? Maybe you are starting to see that it's even better than any lyrics or melodies could ever describe?"

What the fuck did this love zombie do with my smartass Madison? Not knowing what else to do, I pinched her hand.

"Ow! What the hell was that for slut?" Madison demands.

"I just wanted to make sure you were still you," I explain.

"Can't a girl have a soft side?" Madison questions with a smirk.

"Not you. Unless you count your ass," I tease with my most charming smile plastered on my face.

She quickly flattens her smirk into a scowl and slides my phone into my hand. "This is my last 'maybe' and then I think I might get out of this hostile work environment. Maybe, you should just call her if you want to get some work done?"

Madison gives me her trademark know-it-all stare and as much as it pains me to admit it, she is right.

"If I call her, will you get that ridiculous look of your face?" I challenge.

Madison nods and my thumb hovers over Spencer's number. It's only been two days since the pumpkin carving and I am so afraid that this balancing act with Spencer can fall like a house of cards. I don't do this. I don't call girls. Picking girls up is easy. Getting rid of them is even easier. Keeping them is something I have no idea how to do.

"Jesus, Ash…do I have to do everything for you?" Madison quips and taps the send button pulling me out of my inner monologue.

"Hey Ashley," a very manly voice answers and I pull my phone away from my face so I can check the display and confirm I did just call Spencer. "This is Aiden," he man adds and inhales a large breath of air.

Like a moron, I try to process all the information and reply, "Um…ehh.. Is…Spencer there?"

"She can't talk right now, but give her a second," Aiden says between uneven breaths.

Why is he panting? Why can't Spencer come to the phone? Is she blowjobing him right now? That's ridiculous, Ashley. Who picks up the phone in the middle of the blowjob?

"Blowjob," I mumble as my thoughts get the best of me.

Classic. Nothing like a little bit of verbal diarrhea first thing in the morning. I'm too consumed by thoughts of what Aiden and Spencer could be doing together this early in the morning to have any coherent words leave my mouth.

"Did you just say blowjob?" Aiden asks with a chuckle.

Madison just stares at me with her jaw gaping wide open. Now she looks like she's about ready to give, well, a blowjob.

"No, I said slow down. You're talking to fast," I try cover up rather unconvincingly.

Right now I feel like I'm going down in flames faster than the Hindenburg.

"Oh, wow I could have sworn you said blowjob. Spencer must have hit me harder than I thought at our boxing lesson this morning," Aiden explains. "She's just taking off her hand wraps now."

"Spencer does have a killer right hook," I reply as the relief takes over. There was no physical intimacy between Spencer and Aiden this morning. Only physical violence. Now that's a mental image I don't mind replaying in my head! "Anyways I was calling to see if she wanted to come over this Saturday," I say.

Take that, Aiden. Yeah this is me asking out your girl right in front of your face, or directly in your ear. Spencer won't be the only one taking some shots at Aiden this morning.

"Oh, we just made plans to hang out on Saturday," Aiden starts.

Aiden may have just landed a solid metaphorical punch to my brilliant plan, but my real heart was feeling the pain. Not knowing what else to do I blab, "It's a party. At my house. You both can come!"

Madison spits out a laugh as she overhears my conversation somehow continue to get worse. I don't need her nonsense right now, so I push her annoying ass out the door, shutting and locking it behind her. I rub my temples as I realize that not only did I just commit myself to having a party, but I just committed myself to having a party with both Spencer and her boy toy. FML.

"Yeah, that sounds cool," Aiden agrees. "Ashley just invited us to a party Saturday," Aiden tells Spencer.

I can vaguely hear Spencer in the background, but can't make out a single word she said.

"Ahh, I think my girlfriend wants to talk to you," Aiden informs me.

Girlfriend? Girlfriend? What the hell happened in the past forty eight hours? My mind reels for time it takes Spencer to get to the phone and I try to find something witty or romantic to say. No useful thoughts enter my head as I realize I have no game. After a few more seconds of silence, Spencer comes to the phone.

"Hey," she greets.

"Hey, Spence," I reply with a perkiness in my voice that I'm a little thrown off by.

"Woah, didn't realize you were such a morning person, Ash," Spencer teases.

"I'm so not, but I have already had two cups of coffee," I reply.

"Aiden says you invited _us to a party this Saturday," Spencer says emphasizing the word us. "I know I hit him in the head on accident, but I didn't think I messed him up that bad."_

"_No, he heard right. I don't know if it will be weird for you, but I still want both of you to come. And you can bring Chelsea and Clay, too. They seemed cool," I add._

"_I think it's safe to say we'll be there. Aiden is already telling a few of the guys here that he's going to be hanging out with Ashley Davies this weekend. Hmmm, sounds like he'd rather be dating you," Spencer jokes._

"_Well I'd rather be dating his girlfriend," I shoot back, wondering if she picks up on my purposeful selection of the word girlfriend._

_Spencer is silent and it speaks volumes. She knows what I mean, but quickly replies, "I'm sure we will have plenty of time to talk about, um everything, on Saturday."_

"_All right. I am going to hold you to that," I reply. And then maybe I can hold her against my body as I start to ravage her in my room. The back arching, toe curling kind of things I want to do to her naked body…_

"_Ash? Hello? Are you still there?" Spencer asks into the phone._

_Shit. I was so busy fantasizing about Spencer I don't even know that she asked._

"_What?" I ask._

"_I asked do you need me to bring anything?" Spencer reiterates with a chuckle._

"_Just your sexy ass," I tell her with the last little shred of confidence I have left after this humbling conversation. "And um, maybe if you are free sometime this week, you wanna come over and carve some more pumpkins?"_

_I wiggle my eyebrows for dramatic effect since to me carving pumpkins means making out, but realize I'm on the phone so it's pointless. _

"_I think I might have some time. I will let you know for sure later today," Spencer replies._

_We wrap up the phone call and now I'm even less likely to do something productive with my music today. All I can think about is this killer party I need to throw in a couple of days. I jot down a few things I need to do before this weekend arrives. After a few minutes and a quick review of my list of party supplies, I open the door and Madison is just propped up against the door jam waiting for me with a shit eating grin on her face. _

"_What's so funny? Shouldn't you be planning a party for Saturday instead of standing around smirking all day?" _

_Madison rolls her eyes at me. "Please, I already booked the catering company and started the e-vites for Saturday. Shouldn't you be pulling your head out of Spencer's ass and get back to writing some songs?"_

"_No, in case you haven't noticed, Spencer's ass is amazing and I will keep my head there as long as I like," I return knowing nothing can bring me down from the possibility of seeing Spencer this week. Except the fact that she has a freaking boyfriend. _


	12. Lifesaver Isn't Just a Candy

A/N: Sorry for some additional Spaiden. I know I promised to keep it to a minimum, but I had severe writers block and this is the only way in which I can move forward. There is a purpose for it all...

Spencer POV:

The party is in full swing this afternoon by the time we arrive at Ashley's condo in Marina Del Rey. I don't know how many houses this girl has, but I'm having trouble keeping up with all of them. Aiden and I follow another group of people right in to Ashley's unit. Immediately, I catch sight of Ashley making herself a cocktail.

"Don't you have minions who do that kind of thing for you?" I tease as I stroll up beside her.

Ashley pulls me into a hug and replies with a wink, "Nobody makes a drink as good as I do. Actually, nobody does a lot of things as good as I do."

I feel warm all over just thinking about what kind of things she does so well. Luckily, my blush isn't noticeable to anyone since Ashley wastes no time in getting Aiden wrapped in a hug as well. As they pull away from each other, I notice she's wearing light ripped jeans and a hooded sweatshirt that thankfully shows off her flawless abs. Whatever blush I was hoping wasn't noticeable before, just got a hell of a lot worse at the sight of her killer stomach.

"Good to see you again," Ashley says so convincingly to Aiden I almost believe it.

We allow Ashley to make us her signature drink and it is strong. All I can taste is Rum, but lucky for me I like Rum and I decide to make it through today, being buzzed is a necessity.

"You two are just in time. I was about ready to take the boat out for a quick run if you want in," Ashley offers.

It's a little to chilly for my liking, but Aiden quickly replies, "Hell yeah!"

"Don't worry Spence. I will get you something to keep you warm. Come with me," she says and takes my hand and leads me to her room, leaving Aiden to stand there sipping his drink.

"Be right back," I yell to him.

It's unnerving how perceptive she is when it comes to me. I have no idea how she knows I needed something to keep me warm, but I like it. Until I see what she has in store for me. She hands me a USC hoodie with a smirk. "This will have to do."

"Oh no. I can't wear this," I protest, clutching the hoodie in my hand.

Ashley looks at me with skepticism. "Afraid you might like the way the cardinal and gold will look on you?"

With a shake of my head I purr, "Never."

Ashley simply unzips her current sweatshirt as she takes a few steps towards me. I try not keep my attention focused on her flawless body, but the only way I can not stand there like a lust filled idiot, is to physically turn my head to the side. The cherry hardwood floor in her bedroom is far less interesting, but at least it doesn't tempt me like a half naked rock goddess. Her sultry voice fills my ears as she whispers, "Bummer. Guess you'll have to wear this one then."

I bite my tongue to keep the whimper choked down in my throat as her breath trails down my neck. Damn her for not making this easy on me. I look up in her eyes and see the twinkle that confirms she knows just how much she's torturing me right now.

All I can do is bluff, so I fumble with the zipper on her hoodie and draw it back up over perfect breasts. The only way I'm going to make it through this day alive involves Ashley wearing as much clothing as possible.

"I will wear the USC sweatshirt, but I'm not going to be happy about it. Aren't you going to be cold in that thing?" I question.

"Looking hot is worth being cold," Ashley retorts and adjusts the zipper down an inch.

Great, now there is definitely cleavage in my line of sight. To distract myself, I put on the hoodie she loaned me and take a good look in the mirror.

"I'm such a sellout," I comment pinching the sweatshirt with the Trojan logo.

Ashley strolls up behind me and rests her chin on my shoulder. I look back at her reflection in the mirror and our eyes meet.

"A beautiful sellout," Ashley corrects with a smile. "And I like the way you look in my clothes."

My smile is full blown and there's no way to hide it. The only consolation to me wearing USC gear is that Ashley has a smile to match mine as I look at our reflection.

"Come on. Let's go. I wouldn't want your boyfriend to think I'm up here taking advantage of you," she comments and the smile fades from her face.

For every moment we share together, I'm aware I'm causing her an equal moment of pain. This is not what I planned, but it's the situation her and I are stuck in for the time being. And that is nobody's fault but my own.

We head downstairs just in time to see Chelsea and Clay chatting with Aiden.

"Spencer, what are you wearing?" Clay questions upon seeing my sweater.

I glance sheepishly between him and Chelsea and cross my arms in front of the giant Trojan logo on my chest.

"Girl, you are so lucky that I like you and Ashley, because that," Chelsea pauses pointing at the sweatshirt for dramatic flare, "is sooo wrong."

Ashley is biting her lip to keep the laughter in. Glad she gets a kick out of my humiliation.

All of us make our way out to the dock where there are a handful of others waiting for us. One of members of the waiting group is Madison and I'm relieved to see one familiar face. Ashley wastes no time in making sure everyone gets introduced. She is such a good hostess that I can't help but wonder what it would be like if we were co-hosting a party together.

Ashley's boat is an older, but fully restored, sail boat. "Ashley, this boat is amazing. Where did you get this thing?" Aiden asks.

He grabs my hand and I step onto the boat while Ashley explains.

"My dad and I used to sail on this all the time. He taught me a lot about sailing and I even helped him restore it growing up. When he passed away, I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else having it, so I made sure that my mother got pretty much everything so I could keep this."

I'm so intently listening to her story, I kick my flip flops off and walk across the wood towards the bow where there are available seats. A few strides before I reach my seat, the boat is pushed away from the dock and I almost bite it. While fighting to keep my balance with my bare feet and with Aiden's help I reamin upright, but not before I feel the sharp sting of a sliver on the bottom of my foot.

"Son of a bitch!" I yell and collapse onto a nearby seat, so I can inspect my foot.

"Are you okay, Spencer?" Aiden asks and fills the vacant spot next to me.

"I'm fine. Just a splinter or something," I brush it off since I can't see any debris lodged in my foot, even though my foot is throbbing like crazy.

After a couple of minutes getting out of the marina, we are out on the open water. It's really choppy and I wonder if I might be a little sea sick, since I'm starting to feel overheated and strange. Ashley has been pretty busy, but has Madison take over for a minute once we are away from the shore.

"You feeling all right, Spence? You don't look so good," Ashley comments as she slides down next to me.

"I think she is sea sick or something. She's been all blotchy and sweaty looking since we got out of the marina," Chelsea observes.

Ashley's chocolate eyes scan over my face and I feel completely exposed. I'm sure I can't be looking all that attractive if Chelsea just chose to describe me as blotchy and sweaty.

"It's this damn USC sweatshirt. It's making me all itchy. Probably just cheap fabric," I joke, absently scratching at my arm.

"Or sea sickness!" Chelsea repeats with a grin.

Clay mumbles something and Aiden and Clay give a laugh at their inside joke, my lame joke or Chelsea's brilliant medical diagnosis. Ashley doesn't crack a smile.

"This isn't sea-sickness. I've seen it enough to know, it's something else. Spence, when did you start feeling this way?" Ashley asks.

"I dunno," I try to think back to the events earlier today. "A few minutes after I got on the boat."

"This doesn't make any sense," Ashley continues with a dismissive shake of her head. "What else happened?"

"I got on the boat. Almost broke my ass when we launched, got a sliver in my foot and started to feel like crap. Best boat ride ever," I sum up the afternoon of nautical adventures/disasters.

"Sliver? Let me see your foot," Ashley demands.

I lift my jeans over my foot and see a startled look on Ashley's face.

"What's up with the cankle, Spence?" Chelsea teases upon seeing my foot.

Chelsea is clearly wasted. She has always been a lightweight. There's no way she could have been sober calling my leg a cankle. That's completely false and kinda mean for Chelsea. I always thought my legs are one of my better attributes, until I look down at my foot. There is no calf or ankle, just a swollen pink blotchy mess.

"Holy shit! Why the hell do I have a cankle?" I yell.

A hint of recognition flashes across Ashley's face. "Where is your epi-pen thingy Spence?"

I realize exactly what Ashley just did a few seconds ago and my hot nauseous sweats turn into ones of cold panic. It's been at least ten or fifteen minutes since I stepped on what I thought was the splinter, but it was obviously something worse for me.

"Wasps love the wooden dock. I should have mentioned something. I should have made sure you brought the Epi with you," Ashley babbles, blaming herself for what happened. "Where is your epi-pen thingy?"

My mouth hangs frozen open in horror as I stammer out the words, "In my purse."

"Okay. Where is your purse?" Ashley questions with a sudden wave of calmness.

"It's back at the house," Aiden answers for me almost inaudibly. "Can someone tell me what's going on?"

He looks between Ashley and I with worry.

"I'm allergic to wasps and I think I just got stung," I inform Aiden as calmly as I can. There is about to be an epidemic of chaos and I just need to remain calm.

"Madison, we need to get back to the marina now!" Ashley yells with a noticeable crack in her voice.

So much for remaining calm. I don't know if it's because I'm more aware of it now, but I can tell that my breathing is starting to get more difficult.

Madison, although confused, begins to make the changes necessary to get the boat turned around. The sudden change in movement, makes me limply flop to the side against Ashley. Her arm reaches around me and she gently whispers, "We've got plenty of time, Spence."

"I don't get it. You're going to be okay, right? I mean it's just a wasp," Aiden rationalizes.

"It's not just a wasp, Aiden," Ashley snaps at him. "She can die from this. She is dying right now and we are in the middle of the fucking ocean."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Chelsea says as she comes to terms with what is going on.

I can hear her throwing up over the side of the boat and the sound of Clay's flip flops flapping on the wood as he follows to comfort her.

"What can we do, Spence?" Aiden asks.

He fumbles into his pocket and starts typing into his Blackberry. "I'm googling allergic reaction," he tells us as he runs a shaky hand through his hair.

"I have a First Aid kit," Ashley remembers and gently shifts my weight over to Aiden. He wastes no time in wrapping his arm around me and I concentrate on each breath I take.

Ashley rushes back over, but I'm starting to only see light and dark. As much as I would like to, I can't even make out her face. I can hear her tell Aiden that there is nothing useful in the First Aid kit.

"Spence, we're almost back. Stay awake, okay?" Aiden orders with a squeeze of my shoulders.

"I'm sleepy," I tell him as if it isn't the most obvious thing.

The tired feeling is starting to overtake me, but Ashley is annoyingly trying to keep me awake by asking me an onslaught of questions. The last few things I remember are not being able to move my limbs the way I would like. Aiden's arms scoop under me and I feel the hurried jostle as we run back to the house.

"It's gonna be ok, Spence. Just stay with me. You can't die on me yet, I still need to beat you in putt putt," Aiden whispers in my ear.

The shake in his voice let's me know it's more than meant to tease to me. He's trying to convince himself that I'm not going to die. All I can make out is shapes of light and dark and it hurts my eyes too much to keep them open. His voice and reassuring words are meant to keep me from passing out. Part of me almost doesn't care, because it's peaceful and I'm so tired. I don't hear him anymore, but now I hear Ashley and can faintly feel her hand on mine.

"He's going to get your purse, Spence. You are gonna be ok," Ashley informs me.

I really wish Ashley would stop talking because I just want to sleep. I know she just asked me another question. It was something ridiculous like what is my favorite dessert.

"Strawberry shortcake," I mumble back to her after a few seconds of concentration.

"With whipped cream?" Ashley questions followed by a sniffle.

I try to nod, but I don't think I moved anything.

"Spencer, with whipped cream?" Ashley demands, lightly shaking me.

Her voice is getting frantic and I feel drops of rain hit my face, but it's not rain. I think Ashley is crying.

"Yes, whipped cream," I confirm to appease her.

Aiden's deep voice fills my ears next. "I got it," he announces between scattered breaths.

"I…I can't do it," Ashley determines hesitantly.

"It's okay, Ash. I can," Aiden states.

A second later, I feel a sharp sting to my thigh. Meanwhile Ashley continues to ask me questions about desserts to keep me talking. Aiden is having a far off discussion with Chelsea and Clay, suggesting that I should go to the hospital. Ashley and Chelsea agree.

"No," I counter. "I'm feeling better already. I'm not going to the hospital."

"The paramedics are already on their way," Clay says.

My vision is slowly starting to come back and the fogginess that was a cocoon around my body is lifting. I flutter my eyes, each time hoping I see more. I try to sit up, but I'm still completely weak to move my whole upper body. I realize I'm inside now with no clue how I ended up here. Some random people from the party are also looking at me. A wave of paranoia consumes me and I hope I didn't piss my pants while I was unconscious. My crotch is dry, thankfully.

"This has happened to me before. I'm going to be fine now that I've had my shot," I tell them all.

Nobody argues my point and I decide to add, "Seriously, everybody. Go and have fun. I just need some time to get back to full strength."

"I'm not leaving you like this Spencer," Aiden argues.

He slides on the couch next to me and lifts my head in his lap, stoking my hair.

Ashley POV:

We are standing outside of the ambulance while Spencer gets checked out by the EMT. She refused to go to the hospital, but at least consented to a check up. The EMT is still trying to convince her to go in, but Spencer seems pretty freaking stubborn about this whole thing and I don't know why she won't just go to the hospital.

"Thank you," I say softly to Aiden, hoping Spencer is completely out of ear shot. "For saving her. I know Spencer and I just met last month, but I don't know what I'd do without her."

Aiden turns to face me and I can tell he's trying to figure out to what degree I actually mean what I just said. With an unreadable expression he replies, "Yeah. I know what you mean. No need to thank me. You were the one who knew about the Epi-pen."

"Stop talking about me," Spencer grumbles as the EMT gets her to sit up so he can check her lungs and breathing with the stethoscope.

With her smarmy little attitude, I can tell that she is fully conscious now and nothing has made me happier today. There is something about this badass rebel Spencer that is sexy as hell, even if she is still covered in hives.

The EMT finally lets her go and Aiden assists her out of the ambulance.

"Hey beautiful. Glad to see that you stopped trying to die on us," Aiden teases and places a soft kiss on her forehead, smoothing her blonde locks.

I stand helplessly watching Spencer and Aiden in a tender moment, unable to have one of my own with Spencer.

"Sorry. I hope I didn't ruin the party with my um incident," Spencer says and clears her throat.

"Here," I say and hand over the bottle of water to Spencer. Her fingers lock with mine for a fraction of a second longer than they need to and I avoid her gaze so she can't see what's been brought to the surface after everything that happened to her today. "It's okay. The weather looked like it might rain on the coast. It's better that we came in early. You didn't ruin anything."

It's silent while Aiden and I watch as Spencer wobbles with her first few steps up from her and loosens the cap on the bottle of water. She brushes off Aiden's hands meant to assist her and I fight back a smile from that image. Spencer quickly chugs half the bottle and screws the top back on as we ride the elevator back up to my condo.

When we get inside, we follow her to the porch. Aiden is propped on the metal railing and I am looking out at the ocean that almost cost me Spencer. Spencer breaks the uncomfortable silence with, "Both of you are freaking me out. I realize I almost died today, but I feel a lot better now. I'm going to be fine. Really. In fact, Aiden, can you go grab me something to eat?"

"Sure," he replies and scrambles to his feet and into the kitchen.

"Ash," Spencer softly says now that it's just us.

"Yeah," I return, looking to the clouds or basically anywhere that isn't her face.

She gently places a hand on my shoulder and I choke back the tears that are burning in my eyes as I think about how a matter of minutes could have made Spencer touching me impossible right now.

"Thank you," Spencer whispers with a tremble in her voice and she releases her hand from my shoulder.

At the sound of her wavering and loss of her touch, I turn to face her. "I didn't do anything. Aiden saved your life. You should be thanking him."

I am so bitterly angry at having to say those words. There is nothing more that I want than to be the one that takes care of every last thing for Spencer. It's the first time I've ever wanted to and until today, a small part of me though that I might be able to do that. It's all my fault I didn't remind her or warn her about the Epi-Pen or those wasps. I'm so useless sometimes. Again, I can't take Spencer's penetrating blue eyed stare, so I shift my attention to my flip flops.

"I know he helped, but you saved my life. You listen to me, Ash and you forced me to talk to you, even though I thought you were kinda annoying," Spencer explains with a half smile.

I don't share in her amusement. "I was not annoying! I was trying to keep you awake and alive."

"With desserts," She jokes. "The conversation was delicious, but annoying. Seriously, you knew what was wrong and what needed to be done. Just because you didn't give me the adrenaline doesn't mean that you don't deserve every last thank you for everything you did," Spencer elaborates.

We sit in silence for a minute until Aiden returns with a plate of food for Spencer. Spencer picks at her food and Chelsea wanders over with a ping pong ball in her hand.

"Why all the long faces over here? Shouldn't we be celebrating the fact that Spencer is alive and you two managed to make that possible?" Chelsea teases.

"Yeah, exactly!" Spencer agrees. "I don't know what I'd do without my heroes. This is a party after all and you guys are kinda bumming me out with all this serious talk."

Clay wanders up behind Chelsea and snakes an arm around her waist. "Madison is talking a lot of shit about how she is going to beat us, but she needs a partner for beer pong. Who wants in?"

"Not me. I don't know what kind of a cocktail beer and adrenaline form, but I don't think I will be finding out today," Spencer chimes in. "I've had enough adventure."

Nothing is going to take me away from Spencer today, especially some game of beer pong.

"I can't play if my partner isn't going with me," I decline with a thumb pointed at Spencer.

Chelsea reaches out a hand towards Aiden, "Come on stud. Looks like it's all up to you. Clay and I got killed the last game. Madison won't stop running her mouth and I won't take no for an answer."

Aiden looks over at Spencer with concern, "I don't know if that is such a good idea."

He returns his glance to Chelsea who rocking a pouted lip and grasps Aiden's hand with hers.

"It's okay. Go have fun in there. We will be fine by ourselves getting some fresh air," Spencer encourages.

Aiden reluctantly begins to walk over to the kitchen table with Clay. He turns briefly and shouts back, "If you need anything, let me know? Okay, Spencer?"

Spencer gives a simple nod to him and pops a carrot in her mouth. Chelsea shoots me a look that I know means you're welcome before she follows behind Aiden and Clay. Yes, I know that I already owe Chelsea big time.

"I guess I really know how to clear a party out, huh?" Spencer asks with a raised eyebrow.

I look at her line of sight. The foursome of our mutual friends are starting on their game of beer pong. There are a few other close members of my band sitting around in the living room arguing over Hendrix versus Clapton.

I give her a shrug. "You just know how to weed out the undesirables. That means more food and drinks for us. Besides, you managed to narrow down the guest list to people I actually like to hang out with. And the best part is the VIP action we have on my balcony with just you. Now I get to find out more about the mysterious blonde who seems all sweet and innocent, but refuses to go to the hospital even when she's barely alive."

"Do you ever pass on an opportunity to sweet talk?" Spencer questions.

"Do you ever not avoid any deep conversations?" I return. "Ever since I met you, you tell me just enough to leave me wanting more. But sometimes I feel like you keep a lot buried deep inside. You did almost die at my house today. I think the least you can do is let me in on what makes this miracle called Spencer Carlin possible," I say never taking my eyes of hers.

"Oh yeah? Shouldn't my living be enough to make up for the fact that I almost died?" Spencer questions.

Her damn walls are harder to scale than Mt. Everest. It's infuriating, but I can't help but want to get to know her.

"I didn't want to have to use this card, but I did kinda save your life today. You owe me, Carlin," I remind her with a nod.

Spencer looks away and her cocky smile is replaced by a stoic glance. Suddenly, the cuffs of the USC sweatshirt she is wearing demand her attention.

I sigh in frustration because Spencer is still keeping me at arms length. She looks up from her sweatshirt and simply says, "Don't."

"Don't what?" I question earnestly.

"Don't give up on me yet," Spencer elaborates. "I didn't go to the hospital…"

She abruptly stops and makes contact with my eyes. They are full of pain, like she just remembered something she didn't want to while she struggles with her words.

"I didn't go to the hospital because I promised myself I would never go back. The last time I set foot in a hospital was when my father died. I'm not strong. I'm not tough. The only way I can stay sane is if I don't think about anything that reminds me of that day," Spencer finally admits. "If I think about that day and what happened…I don't even know if I can. So, I just move forward and it's worked until now. It's worked until I met you."

I'm holding my breath as her elusive words fill my ears. It's not the confession of every last detail of her life like I was hoping for. Spencer still remains a complete mystery to me. She still leaves me wanting more, but she gives me enough to cling to. She gives me hope that there is something more to this beautiful blue eyed blonde than I ever imagined. Hope is a dangerous thing.

There are no words that I can say, so I just rest a hand on hers for a second, before a victorious and drunk Chelsea interrupts us with a round of hugs.


	13. Got You In the Sack

Spencer POV:

Finally, I opened up to Ashley a little bit and the whole world didn't come crashing down like I was so worried it would. Thankfully, Chelsea interrupted at the perfect time before I could do something completely stupid. Chelsea and Ashley are busy getting drinks, while I think about the events of today. I do want to tell Ashley everything about me, but it's that exact feeling that makes doing it so insanely scary.

Something inside of me is telling me she has the potential to hurt me more than anyone else I've ever met. I don't know if it's because of the limited tabloid information I know about her dating history. Even that isn't enough to deter me, because with her I can tell it's different. We are skirting around something real and it's that fact that is the source of my fears. Today I realized that what I have with Ashley is more real than what I have with Aiden.

Thinking about telling Aiden and the hurt I could cause is always on the back of my mind. There's no easy way for me to break up with him, but I can't keep pretending like it's going to lead somewhere, for me at least. The longer I string him along, the more likely I am to loose him all together. If I can't make it work with him, I can't make it work with any guy.

"Hey, I hope you don't mind a little company out here," Madison announces as she slides the door to the balcony behind her.

"No, not at all," I reply as I turn to face her.

Madison gives me a warm smile. "Good, I didn't want to interrupt and you looked like you were thinking about something serious."

"Well, I did almost die today," I joke. "Seems like an appropriate day for self reflection."

"I'm glad you didn't. I like having you around and so does Ashley. So what earth shattering revelations did you come to today?" Madison asks.

"Oh, just the usual. Maybe it's about time I start thinking with my heart instead of my head," I admit.

Not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer, I ask, "So what are you doing out here? You've been pretty quiet today."

"You got me. I needed a second away from those lovebirds Chelsea and Clay. I'm not exactly in the mood to be surrounded by all these people who in love when I can't even get my boyfriend away from his job for thirty seconds to see me at a party," Madison returns.

She runs her hand through her curls, but the wind blows them back to the same spots splattered across her face.

"Ah, guy troubles. I know what you mean," I sympathize.

Guy. Girl. Makes no difference. I got some troubles.

"Really? Aiden seems like a nice guy," Madison asserts.

"He is. He's really great. That's part of the problem," I reveal.

"So you don't like him?" Madison questions trying to understand.

"No, I do like him. That's the other part of the problem. But enough about me. What's the issue with your guy?" I inquire.

Madison wraps her arms around her chest as the wind picks up again. "Ethan's not around that much, which I liked at first. I'm a lot to handle and I like my time alone. But I feel like he isn't willing to make the effort to spend time with me unless it somehow makes his job easier. And I don't want to feel like I'm a task to be checked of a list or just tolerated because being with me is easy for him. I'm wondering if maybe I need something more," Madison elaborates.

"What made you decide you want something more?" I ask.

Madison flashes me an unreadable smile and her green eyes twinkle while she explains, "Just seeing a big change in a friend of mine recently. And if she can change and be ready for something more, then I know I am ready too."

I wonder if that friend she's referring to is Ashley and if I played a part in the catalyst to her changing, but my lips curl into a smile at that thought.

"So, uh what's the story between you and muscles?" Madison asks, switching the topic back to me.

"We've been dating for almost a month. He's sweet. He helps save my life. Grills a mean steak. His mom is awesome. I can't find a thing wrong with him," I declare.

Madison cocks her head to the side and challenges, "Why are you trying?"

I can't fathom a response that doesn't involve confessing my feelings for Ashley to Madison on this balcony right now, but eventually decide to tell her, "I have feelings for someone else."

Madison's smile is ear to ear before she adds, "Listen. If you are worried about that someone else hurting you. Don't. You almost died today. Today is the day it's time to take some risks."

Aiden wanders onto the patio and yells, "There's my good luck charm."

He wraps an arm around me and places a kiss on my cheek. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, but seeing him happy, even just because of alcohol is enough for me to flash him a genuine smile. With his free hand, he grabs Madison by the waist and pulls her next to him.

"And here is my favorite beer pong partner. Are you ready to kick some more ass, Madison?" Aiden asks.

Madison's face lights up and she replies, "I was born ready."

Ashley POV:

I've been waiting on Aiden hand and foot to make sure he has been getting intoxicated. And he has! On the other hand, Spencer is stone cold sober, which is good since I want her to fully recover from her near death experience earlier today.

Aiden and Madison have been continually playing beer pong with encouragement from Chelsea. That girl seriously knows how to get what she wants from a guy. Poor Aiden doesn't stand a chance against her. Or Madison, who appears to have him wrapped around her finger as he fills up her cup.

I'm glad Madison finally pulled that stick out of her ass from earlier. She even looks genuinely happy for the first time in a while. It could due to the alcohol that's increased both her happiness level and the amount of touching of a certain dark haired muscle-head that is dating the girl of my dreams. Is it just me and my wishful thinking or are they looking a little too chummy? Never mind that thought. Madison is dating Ethan, well, whenever he is around. And Aiden is obviously with Spencer. To completely invalidate my hypothesis, Aiden just grabs Spencer for an impromptu kiss, which reminds me that him being drunk means that he might be extra touchy with Spencer.

Fortunately, Spencer breaks free and immediately connects her eyes with mine.

"It's getting late and Aiden is really drunk. We should probably get going," Spencer declares.

"You guys can always crash in my bed tonight. I can just crash in the spare room," I offer.

I have no idea why I just did that other than the fact that there was a part of me that wanted Spencer in my bed, even if it had to be under those unfortunate circumstances.

"No way! Look at Aiden. He's all sweaty and gross," Spencer says nodding in his direction. "You don't want him in your bed."

She couldn't be more right about that. I give her my nose crinkling smile and agree, "You got me there. But nothing would make me happier than if you stayed a little longer."

Her blue eyes dart around the room, settling anywhere but on my eyes. I can see the hint of rose as it splashes across her cheeks and makes her eyes a shade of azure that I can't stop trying to commit to memory. I hope it's not just the remnants of her hives from earlier and I'm not deluding myself that I could cause that reaction in her. This push and pull dance between us is starting to really take it's toll on me.

The party winds down and most of the guests clear out sometime after two. Chelsea and Clay decide to go to an after party with some of my band mates. I guess Clay isn't as much of a nerd as I had originally pegged him for. By some miracle, Aiden ends up passed out on the couch. Spencer throws a blanket on him and places a kiss on his forehead.

She walks over and announces, "Sorry about that. He's out cold. I guess we will be staying here tonight."

My smile is so big it's hurting my face so I take her hand and lead her upstairs. Not wanting to assume anything, I flick on the lights for the spare bedroom, but see Madison laying face down diagonally across the bed.

She groans as the light turns on and mutters something incoherent. Spencer and I laugh and I flick off the light, leaving Madison sprawled out on the bed. Thank God for Madison. I'm going to have to give her a raise for that.

"You can crash with me," I tell her as we walk down the hall.

"I promise I'll keep my hands to myself," I add, hoping that I don't scare her away.

"Me too," she jokes, but then turns serious.

"What's wrong?" I ask as I flick on the lights to my room.

It's only my home away from home, but Spencer is busy getting a good look at my bedroom.

"Nothing. I didn't think I was going to stay over and I didn't bring my stuff," Spencer states, but there is something more to it than that.

"So, you can borrow mine. It's not a big deal, Spence," I try to relax her.

"It's not that. It's Ashley Davies, the giraffe. It will be our first night apart," Spencer reveals and takes off her shorts and I try to not to stare, but I can't look away. I pull out the first items from the drawer so I can get back to secretly staring at Spencer. Her voice breaks me from my dirty thoughts. "I guess that Ashley Davies will have to sleep by herself tonight," she jokes. "I am sleeping with the real Ashley Davies tonight."

Yes, and this Ashley Davies will make you forget that stuffed animals name. No, wait, then she'd forget my name, too. Damn! I'm confusing myself and now I lost my opportunity to say something sexual and inappropriate. As she tugs the t-shirt I provided over her head, my constant perving on Spencer does some good and I notice that she is still not fully recovered from her allergies today.

"Spence, you're still covered in hives," I say as I observe the pink of her skin.

"I know. It will be fine tomorrow," she shrugs it off.

"Does it hurt?" I ask.

"No. But it itches like crazy," Spencer admits.

I walk into my bathroom and hunt through the cabinet below the sink until I find what I'm looking for. Back in my room, Spencer is folding her clothes and setting them on top of my dresser.

"Lay down, you'll thank me for this soon enough," I tell her.

I have no problem stripping down and putting on a pair of pajamas while Spencer slides under the covers. I'm pretty sure she's staring at me. No, I'm positive she's staring at me and I love every second of it.

She looks adorable against the fluffiness against my covers and I can't wait to be lying next to her. After clicking the light off, I climb into bed.

"First, take this," I command and hand her a little white pill.

"What is it?" Spencer asks. "A roofie?"

"Spence, I don't need an illegal drug to get you in the sack," I deadpan. "It's a Claritin."

She looks at me skeptically.

"Even incredibly hot rockstars have allergies once and a while," I elaborate with a crooked grin.

Spencer rolls her eyes at me, but takes the medication and finishes it with the bottle of water she set on the night stand.

"Roll onto your front," I command gently.

Spencer does as she is told and I climb on top of her butt and gingerly lift up her shirt. Every thought in my head is screaming for me to touch her and I'm glad I already thought of a feeble excuse to do just that. My nails aren't very long from guitar playing, but they should do the trick. I spend as long as I can scratching her back and arms and legs. When I'm done, I grab the bottle of Aloe gel I found in my bathroom and squeeze it onto her back. She readjusts under me as the cooling gel hits her back.

My fingers dive into the pile of gel and I spread it around her back. Under me, I can hear Spencer's faint moaning and I try to concentrate only on making sure the aloe is completely rubbed into her back.

"Better?" I ask as I finish.

"No, don't stop!" she pouts. "It feels so good!"

"Spence, if I keep going we're going to run out of aloe," I joke.

"It's a good thing we've got all night, because that bottle looks pretty full," she shoots back.

Because I'm whipped and I can't do anything to deny a reasonable request, I continue to rub my hands all over Spencer's body. I'm such a nice person. There's nothing in it for me at all. Nothing like the curves of her back or the sounds of her breath when she exhales that drive me wild.

Finally, I think my fingers are not going to be able to bend any longer, so I stop and reluctantly climb of Spencer and push her shirt back down. As I lay on my side of the bed, it kills me to know that Spencer is only a foot away from me and I can't, or at least I shouldn't touch her anymore.

"Thanks for letting us crash here," Spencer says. "Aiden was obviously too drunk and I have to admit I was in no position to drive either. And thanks for the aloe."

My slightly evil plan to get Spencer in my bed tonight ends up working out better than I planned. Until I realize the amount of torture I'm subjecting myself to at this moment.

"No problem," I tell her looking at the ceiling. I can't bear to look at her now. "You'll be the first girl whose been in my bed that I haven't 'slept' with," I tease.

My room is suddenly filled with the sound of her laughter and she rolls on her side to face me.

"I'm so flattered. Ashley Davies doesn't make a pass at me. Am I not your type?" she questions seductively.

After everything that's happened between us, I can't believe she even asked that question. If there wasn't enough sexual tension between us before, it is becoming unbearable in the silence as I struggle as to how to answer that question.

She snakes her hand across my stomach, pushing my t-shirt up. Running her fingers over my abs causes me to tense up and she can tell I'm reacting to her intoxicating touch. Not to mention, I'm painfully aware that goosebumps are now present on most of the surfaces of my body, including that which is directly below her fingertips.

"Any girl with a pulse used to be my type," I joke.

She has me so distracted with the lazy pattern she's drawing, it was the first thing I could think to say.

"You didn't answer my question, Ash. Am I not your type?" she continues to probe.

I am so completely fucked right now. All I want to do is pin Spencer down on the bed and show her how much she was type. Then I realize the fact that I'm stopping myself from doing just that, makes it obvious to me how much she was not my usual type. None of this changes the fact that she has a boyfriend who is currently asleep on my couch and there is no right way for me to answer her question.

"No, you're not my type," I say flatly.

"Oh," Spencer whispers and pulls her hand from my stomach.

The disappointment in her voice made me want to cut out my tongue for causing her pain with my poorly thought out words. I roll to face her and reach for her hand, linking our fingers together.

With a shaky voice, I confess, "You're too good to be my type. You are the kind of girl that renders all other types unnecessary. So to answer your question completely, you are not my type because you've created a whole other category of things I never knew I wanted, but now can't live without."

My honesty vomit barely leaves my lips and I can't believe I said all of this to anyone, let alone a girl I've only known for a few weeks.

"Like a Swiffer or an iPad?" Spencer returns almost inaudibly.

That wasn't exactly the response I was looking for, but at least she hadn't backhanded me. Her fingers are still linked in mine and I stumble over finding the right words to say as a response.

"Sure, if that's what you want. You're my Swiffer, Spence," I declare with a chuckle.

"Ashley?" she mumbles my name while she squeezes my hand.

"Yeah?" I return.

"That was the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," Spencer confesses.

"The Swiffer?" I check as I talk myself in circles.

"No. Before that," she alludes.

All I can think about is that if she was mine, I'd make it a point to think of something better to tell her than I did the day before. And after I just called her a Swiffer, not the finest line of poetic musings, I think that I should be able to do that without a problem. I would make it my job to make sure that she knows how amazing she is. I feel like I've already said too much and if I say even one more thing, I will scare her away. I'm a few words away from being a stage five clinger and I know about them. She's been talking to me in riddles all day, if not from the day we met, and I'm not sure if I should push it, but I can't be anything but honest with her.

"Oh, well I meant it," I clarify and leave it at that.

My heart is full and breaking all at the same time. I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want this girl and she is literally the one person I shouldn't have. She deserves so much better than the kind of love I can give her right now. I don't know what love even is. My dad was about the closest person I could say that I loved, but he's been dead for a few years now. My bitch mother is God knows where doing God knows who and spending every dime I send her way. My half sister, Kyla is too busy concerning herself with the party scene to ever actually get to know me. It leaves me with nothing, nothing but this possibility of Spencer and that possibility scares me more than anything. It scares me that she almost got taken away from me today.

The thoughts about my feelings circle my head like a shark honing in on it's prey and tempt me to make bad decisions. All I want is to be wrong tonight. The girl almost died today and her boyfriend or whatever he is, is still sleeping soundly below us. Frustrated with myself, I heave out a sigh and roll onto my back. During my readjustment, my hand slips from Spencer's and I close my eyes in disgust.

I feel Spencer tossing and turning next to me repeatedly since our touch broke. Suddenly, I feel the bed shift and her thighs are on either side of my waist. I open my eyes to see the faint shadow of Spencer who is now straddling me. I am instantly turned on by her position on my body and I can barely stand how much I want her.

"Ash," she whispers.

My throat is dry, probably because all of my wetness is collecting some place much more inconvenient at the moment. I hoarsely respond, "Spence. What are you doing?"

She lowers her body towards my face and her stray wisps of hair tickle my cheeks as she informs me matter-of-factly, "I want to be your Swiffer."

I struggle to understand the meaning of this comment, but no additional thoughts enter my brain as soon as I feel her lips collide with mine. Her kiss is playful and I'm so drawn into it, I find myself letting her take the lead. Every thing I know about sex or love is useless when I'm wrapped up in my Spencer addition. I can feel her tongue slowly trying to part my lips, getting bolder with every thrust. Finally, the rest of my body gives into this passion and I meet her expectant tongue with my own.

There's not too many things that could possibly make me happier at this very moment, but I think of one simple thing. My arms wrap around the small of her back and guide her flush onto my body. Spencer's breath hitches at the contact between us and I'm even entranced by the feeling of her breath on my lips when she finally remembers to breathe again.

I take this opportunity to gently toss her onto her back and now I begin to kiss her feverishly. Her fingers are clasped to my hips, taunting me to do the only thing I know how to do well. I stop at that thought and shoot up.

In the darkness of the room, I can barely make out what I think is frustration on her face. "I'm sorry," I mumble although I really think I should be telling her you're welcome. After all, I may have just stopped her from making the worst decision she's ever made. I run my fingers through her hair as I explain, "I want you so badly, but not like this. Your boyfriend is downstairs."

She lies still between my legs and silently watches as I reluctantly pull myself off of her and rest on my side, facing her direction.

"Don't apologize. Don't say you're sorry. I'm the one who should say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that and because what I'm about to say next needs to come with one," she breathes.

I feel her arms around me pulling me into her again. I'm afraid by what she wants to tell me, but I am at my limit right now when it comes to denying Spencer.

"Okay," I give her permission to say what I am certain will devastate me.

"I want you too, Ash. All I can think about since we first met, is that I wish I could spend the rest of my days trying to make you want me as much as I want you," she explains.

My heart is fluttering erratically at her confession and my stomach is waiting for the fallout.

"But?" I tentatively ask, knowing that the inevitable is coming.

"But you and me isn't something I can share with everyone just yet. I don't know if I'm ready for all of this, even though it is the most amazing thing I've ever had. But I know I want it more than I've ever wanted anything."

"What? Why are you worrying about everyone? Just worry about you and what you want," I advise her.

After all, the only thing I could really be qualified to give advice on is being selfish. My hand is shaky and I run my fingers through her hair. I don't know how else to show her that it's ok to be open and honest with me, even if it hurts me.

"I wish it was that easy," she counters.

"Why are you with him?" I ask, slightly annoyed at her skirting around the issue.

"He's a great guy. It's simple and it makes people happy," she admits.

"Does it make you happy?" I finish.

I'm not sure I can handle her response, but she starts running her fingers against my ribcage and most of my thoughts disappear into thin air.

"No," she replies and doesn't offer me more of an explanation.

Part of me can understand where she is coming from and I pull her into an embrace. I hope tonight's activities and this conversation doesn't ruin us, so I just cling to her. Any way that I can keep my connection with Spencer is better than losing her.

"You will be happy someday, Spence," I tell her. "I promise."

For a second, I think that maybe that someday will be someday soon and even humor myself that I could have some part in her happiness. With her arms around me, it seems possible and I allow myself to think about that future. It's closer to fantasy than reality, but it's all I have right now. Spencer remains silent, so I press a kiss on her forehead. As we both start to fall asleep, I wonder if she too is imagining the future where we can be together and happy.


	14. Plan B

A/N: Thanks again for showing me the love when I was an absent writer. I think I watch too much Grey's anatomy because all my stories involve medical emergencies of some sort. That or I have a secret desire to be a Doctor. I agree that Spencer needs to get her shit together (as do I) and stop jerking Ashley around. It's going to happen soon. If I did steal a line from ICTS last chapter, good catch! I didn't even realize it. Must be burned into my subconscious. If I do borrow, I try to give props where they are do.

Spencer POV:

When I wake up this morning, I feel conflicted. Ashley's arms are still firmly planted around my waist and that fact makes me completely euphoric. Then, I begin to recall the events of last night and I know that I'm putting her through unnecessary pain. I still don't know if I can just give in to being what I've been denying so expertly for too long now.

I can't take my eyes off of her as she sleeps beside me. Everything feels so right when I just live in the moment with her. There is nothing else holding me back when I concentrate only on how I feel when it's just us.

Feeling a surge of bravery run though my body again, I place a light kiss on her lips. I don't mean to wake her; I just want a stolen moment of perfection before I can ruin us with my fears. My brilliant plan is a colossal failure as she begins to stir as soon as my lips separate from hers.

"Spence," she mumbles and draws me closer to her.

While her body makes contact with mine, I decide maybe my plan was brilliant after all. My body is in overdrive as the warmth of her body covers me. I've only been awake for thirty seconds and Ashley already has my entire world turned upside down without her being completely lucid. My fingers find their way to her side and I dance my fingers there gently.

Ashley's eyes are still closed, but promptly shoot open as I whisper, "Morning Ash."

"You're still here? Last night wasn't a dream?" she asks with a smile.

I shake my head 'no' and she responds by pulling me into a long and tender kiss. I'm pretty sure this is the best way I've ever woken up. She pulls away quickly, too quickly for my liking.

"I'm sorry," she rambles as she removes her hand from my hips. "I didn't mean to…I just couldn't help it…I mean it felt so right. It won't happen again."

I give her a lazy smile because the mind blowingly confident version of Ashley Davies has got NOTHING on this side that I just saw. She's adorable and vulnerable and would kill me if she knew I thought she was adorable. I need to stop thinking.

I pull her wrist back towards me and place it on my hip, anxious to feel our bodies connect again. My lips find hers and do their best to convince her that I don't need convincing. Nothing has changed since our conversation last night, except everything. I want this. I want this moment every morning. I want to know if she reaches for me instinctively to kiss me when we wake up. I want to know if her hair is a disaster in the morning. As our kisses deepen, the thoughts fade to one simple thought. I don't want to stop kissing her. I pull away only to shift positions before my lips meet hers again.

She whimpers, but returns her approval by seeking out my tongue with hers. Every sweep of her tongue against mine is making my body tingle in anticipation of the next. I lose all track of time and I don't even know what time it is or when we woke up, but I don't care. If this is wrong, I need to make mistakes more often.

"Spence," she whispers against my lips between my eager kisses.

"Yes," I respond, but really want her to shut up and keep kissing me.

Talking gets us nowhere. More kisses just might solve our problems. When I'm with her, I think that maybe the certain nuclear fallout from us being together might be worth it.

"It's almost eleven. We need to see if anybody is up and make sure they don't um, interrupt us," Ashley instructs me.

I sigh in frustration and because I know she is right. I don't want to leave the comfort of her bed. No, I don't want to leave the comfort of her. Aiden is potentially waiting downstairs and the last thing I need is him barging in on Ashley and me in a scandalous position. I tear off my pajamas and put on my clothes from yesterday.

As soon as we are dressed, Ashley grabs my hand and leads me down the hallway. We pass by the spare bedroom and see Madison, still draped across the bed in the same position as the night before.

"Should we check if she's still breathing?" I whisper.

Before Ashley can respond, Madison starts snoring and Ashley gives me a shrug.

Together, we tiptoe downstairs hand in hand. As we reach the landing for the last group of stairs, I hear silence below us and tighten my grip on her hand. She stops and I press her against the wall and lean into her, taking advantage of the fact that no one is up and these are going to be the last few moments I'll be able to do things with her that I really want to.

Ashley gives me a mischievous smirk and before I know it, I'm the one pinned between the wall and her body. That girl has some serious moves. I can feel the suction of her lips as she trails the kisses down my neck. She is not being gentle with me and I'm lucky I don't slide down the wall because my legs feel like they are going to give out underneath me. I arch back as far as the wall will let me and she continues to wreak havoc to the newly exposed areas on my neck.

My lips are tingling in anticipation of her kiss and she doesn't leave me waiting as her lips find mine. We spend the next few minutes hungrily dueling for dominance over each others mouths.

The sound of feet padding across hardwood pulls us from the state of bliss we're in and we break away at the same time, knowing that our secret make out session is coming to a close. Her eyes are full of what I can only hope is disappointment and I'm certain she can register the same in mine. I place a soft closed mouth kiss on her lips, but continue to hold her hand as we make our way down the remaining steps.

Aiden is up and shuffling in front of us in his shorts and wrinkled t-shirt. His hair is messy and sticking up straight, but only on one side, kind of like his girlfriend I think. His eyes are barely open, but his vision connects with Ashley and me and he gives us a hoarse, "Hey."

Aiden's eyes slip to where Ashley's and my hand are linked and she tries to pull away subtly. I secure my grip on her hand, because I'm not ready to feel her touch leave me yet.

"Hey," I respond back to my boyfriend, at a complete and total loss of what to say.

My face feels flushed because of the steamy lip lock on the landing and the fact that we were fifty feet away from being busted.

He scratches his head and asks, "Do you have any aspirin? I feel like death warmed over."

"Oh yeah, I'll go upstairs and get it," Ashley offers.

Ashley's hand finally manages to snake out of mine since I realize I can't keep her here forever. Ashley bounds upstairs and Aiden walks over to me and wraps his arm around my waist, which almost makes my skin crawl. Not because he stinks, although he does, but because I am such a bitch. To Ashley, for putting her through this situation and to Aiden for not being able to offer him what he deserves from me: faithfulness. I've never cheated until I've been with him. It's the clincher for me. I need to break up with Aiden and tell Ashley that I'm all for her if she will have me.

Aiden interrupts my thoughts with a quick kiss on the lips and says, "Sorry I passed out last night."

I'm paranoid that maybe he can taste Ashley on my lips, but that's ridiculous.

Aiden continues with, "I hope Ashley made sure you were taken care of."

I choke out a breath of air and admit, "She definitely did."

Obviously, he meant to do with my medical condition, not my lack of self control. The pillow talk with Ashley from last night floods my head and I have to avert my eyes from Aiden's piercing green eyes. I turn my head to the kitchen and begin to run my fingers over the granite counter top where there are cans of beer scattered everywhere.

In my nervous state, I begin to collect the cans and dump their remains down the drain. I stack the cans next to the sink and go to gather another round of cans when Aiden stops me with his hands on my back.

"Spencer?" he questions.

"Yes?" I return, shaking free from his light touch and taking the cans over to the sink.

"Is that a hickey on your neck?" Aiden asks following me around like a puppy and gently rubs the spot on my neck that Ashley had been favoring moments before.

"Um yeah," I spit out my next lie, "You don't remember giving it to me last night?"

"Nope, I must have been more drunk that I thought I was last night," he surmises. "Sorry."

It's times like this I'm glad he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer. His fingers are gentle on my exposed skin and he delicately replaces them with his lips.

The pill shaking thud of a gigantic five hundred count bottle of Aspirin being slammed down onto the counter pulls him away from me. I see the jealous fire in Ashley's eyes as she takes in the scene in front of her and I fight the urge to walk over to her and kiss out every last doubt. While I stand there completely useless, Aiden walks over and takes his aspirin, chasing it with one of the random lukewarm beers on the counter. I almost gag at the sight of it.

I rub absently at my neck and curse myself again. How is it possible that I've only been up for such a little while and I hate myself this much already?

Ashley pulls out a trash bag from the pantry and I assist her in cleaning up. While we get the kitchen back in working order, all of us are completely silent. Aiden from his hangover. Ashley from what she witnessed minutes ago. Me from my self loathing.

As Ashley wipes down the counter and I finish loading the dishwasher, Aiden excuses himself to go to answer his phone.

"I'm sorry Ash," I tell her, searching for the moment when I can get lost in her eyes. She doesn't give me the chance as she continues wiping down the counter with her back to me.

"Don't be sorry Spence. It is what it is," she returns never missing a beat. I hate that fucking response, but I deserve it. I'm sure she's already wiped down the counter top in that spot twelve times already.

I shut the door to the dishwasher and waltz up behind her, pressing my front to her back and wrap my arms around her waist. I plant a soft kiss on her shoulder and she is tensing up under me. Gently I squeeze her tight and whisper, "What are you doing later today? I really need to talk to you."

"Madison, whenever she gets recovered from her hangover, is going to get me back to my house in Malibu to go over some practice interview questions for a radio talk show I am going on tomorrow," she informs me tightly and returns her attention back to cleaning.

"Tomorrow?" I continue.

I see her head snap up and she spins around to face me. Finally, I lock my gaze with hers and think I can see tears forming.

"I don't know if I can do this, Spence," Ashley tells me. "Seeing you with him drives me crazy."

A lone tear falls from the corner of her eye and I sweep it away with my thumb. "Seeing you like this drives me crazy," I admit. "Please, just say yes."

Ashley bites her lip and closes her eyes. "Fine. Tomorrow night," she agrees.

I wrap her into an embrace and I feel her arms tighten around me. We stay like that for a little bit too long, as Aiden enters the kitchen. Upon hearing him, I say, "Bye Ash. Thanks again for everything," stressing the everything as I break away from her.

The meaning is lost as Aiden adds, "Yeah. The party was amazing. Thank you so much."

Ashley leads us to her door and I can't stop myself from asking again, "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow," Ashley confirms and shuts the door behind Aiden and me.

On the way home, I start to think about when and what I will tell Aiden. For a few minutes I'm so consumed in my own thoughts, I don't realize that we haven't said a word to each other. I stare at him for a second, watching the muscles of his jaw tense and realize there is something wrong. Maybe he is on to me and isn't as clueless about Ashley and I as I assumed. Perhaps, there was too much touching or tension for him not to notice.

Hesitantly, I ask, "Is everything all right?"

Aiden glances away from the road, but doesn't lock eyes with me before he returns his attention forward. His knuckles are white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel and I can see the definition in his arm muscles.

"Not really. I just got a call from St. Francis Hospital in San Francisco. My dad is in the CCU. They think he had a heart attack," Aiden explains.

"Oh my God. Is he okay?" I ask.

The memories of getting the news about my own father start to flood my mind, but I quickly lock them back up into my mind. This isn't about me and my issues.

Aiden softly replies, "They said he's stable. I have to go to San Francisco, though. There's no family there and he's all alone right now. I don't know how long I'll be gone for, but I have to leave as soon as possible."

I decide that right now might not be the best time to break up with Aiden. After a silent car ride, he drops me off, gives me a big hug and promises to call when he lands in San Francisco.

Ashley POV:

After cleaning up my condo, I spent the better part of Sunday and this morning in my home recording studio trying to get everything ready for my new album. Currently, I'm staring at a blank sheet of notebook paper with my guitar on my lap. Chords don't sound like chords any more, they just sound like noise. I hear a soft tap on my door and in walks Ethan and Madison.

"There's my girl. I don't want to interrupt the creative process, but we've got some big news for you, Ash," Ethan announces as he pulls up a stool beside me.

I stare blankly at them, not bothering to remove the guitar from my lap. It's way too early on a Tuesday morning for this. Ethan looks like he just won the publishers clearinghouse sweepstakes, which usually translates to a very busy Ashley.

"Okay," I mumble and prepare myself for something terrible.

"We booked your studio time for December. We want to get your first single out in January," Ethan announces with a smile.

At least we have a date booked for my studio time and the earlier that happens, the sooner I can start focusing on school. After winter break, I will no longer be Ashley Davies, rock star. I will be Ashley Davies, full time college student. I will be Ashley Davies, Spencer Carlin's girlfriend. There's just two little problems. The possibility of these is next to impossible and I've only written two songs.

You see, most people get inspired when they meet someone and start developing feelings. Love kind of feelings. Ever since I've met Spencer, I've been feeling a lot of new and exciting things, inspired just isn't one of them.

I don't understand it. I could write ballads and break up songs without ever being in love or having a relationship to break up from. I've show Ethan what I've written so far and the results are mixed. We spend the rest of the morning getting my schedule set for the upcoming few weeks. After lunch, I play what I have for Ethan and we make some changes to the arrangements. It's getting late and I know I don't have much time to get ready before Spencer comes over, so not-so-subtly suggest that Ethan leave.

"I like the songs, Ashley. Don't get me wrong. They are great as usual, but you only have two," he tells me. "And two songs is still at least eight short of an album."

"I'm aware that I've only written two songs. But I've got some time," I remind him.

"You better hurry," he recommends. "That notebook looks awfully blank."

"If you keep talking to me, I'm going to get even less work done," I retort, tapping the pen on the notebook in front of me.

"Fine, just think about having someone co-write some songs. I'll be back tomorrow with some material I think would work for you," Ethan says.

"No. No need to bring songs tomorrow. I will write my own stuff as usual," I dissent, although if it means I get to finish up that much faster, maybe I won't put up much of a fight this time.

"I'm going to bring them anyway. It can't hurt to look. And there's no shame in getting a little help," Ethan says.

"I don't need help, I just need a little inspiration," I correct.

"Spencer not enough inspiration for you, Ashley?" Madison jokes.

I shoot her the evil eye. I can't believe she just brought Spencer up in a business meeting.

"Spencer?" Ethan questions.

"Ashley's girllllllfriend," Madison proudly declares like she is in third grade.

"Now is not the time for distractions, Ashley. Now is the time to put out your best work and think about getting the recognition you deserve for it, like a Grammy," Ethan advises.

"I don't write music to win awards. I know what I'm doing, so you don't have to bring any songs for me to look at. As far as Spencer is concerned, I'd appreciate it if she was kept to my private life," I explain and shoot Madison a venomous glare at the last part.

"Ashley, you are a star. You don't have a private life. You have a public life and you have a paparazzi life. Good for you if you found someone, just make sure she doesn't affect your work," Ethan relays as his parting words.

"Thanks for the support," I yell after him as he turns to leave. Madison scurries away behind him like the mischievous shit throwing spider monkey she is.

"Madison!" I call after her.

She turns around like a deer in the headlights. Ethan places a firm kiss to her cheek and I wonder what she sees in him. Regardless, I'm about to cock block her hard right now. If she thinks she can try to stop my game with Spencer and get away with it, she has another thing coming.

"What was that?" I demand.

Her green eyes never falter as she innocently asks, "What?"

I can tell she must have been a daddy's little girl with her pouty lips and confused look, but she is most certainly not going to get away with it.

"Oh, you didn't notice because you were too busy throwing me under the bus, but I'm referring to the stunt you just pulled bringing Spencer up to Ethan. That crossed a line, Mads."

"Look Ash, maybe I could have been a little more tactful about it, but I just want you to be careful," Madison explains.

"You want me to be careful? Have you met me, Mads? I don't even know what careful means," I remind her.

"Unfortunately, yes I've met you. And honestly that's why I'm a little worried. Ever since Spencer has come into your life, you've changed. Some of it good. I mean you haven't been acting like a total shithead lately and I'm happy to be personally responsible for that. It's nice to not walk into your house and crawl over a trail of underwear and bras on the way to your room. You have no idea how much it pains me to make idle chit chat with your harem of skanks and I appreciate not having to do that for the past month. But, you've been really unfocused and it's just not like you to be like this."

"Like what? Happy? Because for the first time in a while I am. Maybe, this is the new and improved Ashley," I tell her.

"And is this new and improved Ashley planning on telling Spencer about the bet? Or do you just want to give it up and that way you won't have to tell her. It will be our little secret," Madison taunts.

Truthfully, I've been too ashamed to admit to Spencer about the bet. It's the kind of confession that can't be taken back once I utter it out loud. It's the kind of confession that could cause me to lose Spencer for good. It's the kind of confession I wish I didn't have to make. Unfortunately, it is the kind of confession I must make if I want to have a chance to be with her.

How can I expect Spencer to completely let me into her life if I can't be honest with her? Just thinking about saying it out loud makes me sick. The bet and it's ramifications are eating away at me like mental leprosy. If I want to stop this disease from spreading, it's about time to do something that is going to hurt me as much as it's going to hurt Spencer.

"I don't want to deal with this now. But I do have every intention of telling her, I just have to wait for the right time and then the bet is over and the Porsche is yours," I offer. "Hell, I will even have the car detailed for you before I hand it over."

"You are going to have to deal with it sometime, Ash. Have fun on your date. I'll see you tomorrow," Madison says and makes her exit.

She is right, but I don't have time to think about this right now. Spencer is going to be here too soon and I need all the time I can get to make sure everything is perfect. Part of me wonders why I am trying so hard for someone I can't even be certain truly wants to be with me. It doesn't matter, because even if it means a broken heart, I need to prove to her that I am serious about us. I make my way downstairs and light the candles and make sure music is ready at the touch of my ipod. The table is set and I open the refrigerator to see inside Madison stocked the ingredients for one of the few meals I know how to prepare.

I walk to the nearby guest bathroom and look in the mirror. Guess I won't need all of the few minutes I have left. I still look hot. I pop open the medicine cabinet and grab a tube of lip gloss. There's nothing wrong with making sure my lips look kissable, right?

I decide to make the most of the time I have left by sitting at the grand piano in my living room and jotting a couple of lyrics and notes randomly on blank sheet music I have set there. Leaving blank notebooks around the house is a really bad habit I have, but it helps me capture my fleeting moments of creativity. The sound of the doorbell pulls me from my concentration, and I practically skip to the door.

Spencer looks more beautiful than ever, if that's even possible. She is wearing jeans and a UCLA hoodie and holding a white box.

"You really need to take off that hoodie," I tell her.

"Ash, usually people say hello before they ask me to get naked," Spencer says with a laugh.

Naked? Did she just say naked. I wasn't asking her to get naked, but I wasn't asking her not to get naked. She walks inside and I shut the door behind her.

"Umm hello," I say to appease Spencer. "Now can you get naked?"

"I'm going to need at least five shots of tequila and six bud lights for that to happen," Spencer quips as we walk into the kichen.

"That can be arranged," I purr, but need to know more about the possibility of naked Spencer. "And why do you bring up such specific numbers?"

"Um, let's just say there was this party when I was a senior in high school and I lost track of how many shots of tequila I took after four, but I also seemed to lose track of my clothes for a while too. It wasn't pretty. I never went out much and when I did, I might have overdone it a little. I will always have a soft spot for tequila, though."

"Great story. Sounds like the kind of party I would have loved to have gone to. Nudity. And tequila, too. You are my new hero, Spencer Carlin," I announce.

"Too bad my mom didn't agree with that. She never found out about the nudity. Luckily it was brief enough that there was limited to no photographic evidence. But she found out about the tequila when I threw up enough to make the bathroom smell like a cantina," Spencer reminisces. "I was grounded for a month."

"Hey, at least you have a mom that cares, mine was so focused on gold digging I thought it was 1849 for much of my childhood. She wouldn't have even noticed if I went thought a naked tequila bender on the living room table," I return.

There's an awkward silence between us for a second as I think back to how I haven't even given her a kiss hello. Now it just seems way too late for that. My game is never this off. Maybe, because when I'm with Spencer, it's not a game.

"Uh, I was going to offer you some wine, but I think I have some tequila if you'd prefer that," I offer with a wink.

"Wine is good. I think I've officially retired from my naked tequila days," Spencer replies with a mischievous smile.

Too bad, I think as I pour us each a glass of wine, making sure Spencer's was slightly fuller.

"Come on. I don't think I've given you the formal tour of this house," I tell her.

We spend the next twenty minutes walking around my house. I love the way she soaks in every detail and comments about the things she likes. I'm more interested in watching her run her fingers over my bedspread or stand in awe of the Van Gogh in my study than I am watching my favorite TV show.

"This is great, but why do you have so many places to live?" Spencer asks.

"Cuz I don't want to make it easy for the paparazzi to find me," I inform Spencer with a crooked smile. "Or the stalkers."

She shakes her head and we head back towards the kitchen. I tell her to make herself at home and I throw the tortellini into a pot of water and get our salads ready. I know salads and tortellini aren't magic, but it's all I got. Hey, don't judge me. At least I'm trying for this girl. While I'm getting everything ready for dinner, I feel that there is something magical about tonight. I just hope Spencer can feel it too.


	15. What Means the Most

A/N: The song referenced is not surprisingly What Means the Most by Colbie Caillat. Happy Monday!

Ashley POV:

I'm in the kitchen slicing the cucumber for our salads, when Spencer walks in a wraps one of her arms around my waist. I set down my knife on the cutting board because with Spencer touching me, I get too distracted to function. Sharp objects and fingers and distraction do not usually go well together. With her free hand, she sweeps aside my curls, exposing my neck. There's not even a second of hesitation before she begins to nip at my ear and trail open mouthed kisses down my neck and onto my shoulder.

I lean back into her, soaking in her gentle touch, wondering what I could have done to deserve this. Wondering where this version of Spencer has been hiding. Wondering what I can do ensure this isn't just a one time moment between us.

I turn to face her and what comes to my mind is the fact that I still haven't kissed her hello and now it's time to make up for that that. While I'm thinking about doing just that, Spencer leans into me, kissing me hard enough that I can feel the counter on my lower back as I lean against it for support.

"Hello," Spencer greets, fully beating me to my own hello kiss as soon as my lips leave hers.

"Hi," I mumble before she continues the kiss with a level of intensity that makes me weak.

"You need any help?" Spencer questions innocently between our passionate kisses.

The only help I need is in remembering how to answer that question.

"N…n…n..o,"I eventually stammer.

She breathes a contented sigh at my flustered response and places a soft kiss on my shoulder.

"That's probably a good thing. I'm a disaster in the kitchen. You can even ask Chelsea, I've already caused our room to smell like burnt popcorn on more than one occasion," Spencer informs me.

I give her a reassuring kiss her before I comment, "What just happened didn't seem like a disaster to me."

To prove my point, my lips find hers again, softly. It quickly turns into a heated exchange of kisses between us and I have to break away before I can't control myself any longer. Spencer's wandering extremely close to my chest and I watch as a guilty smile crosses her lips.

"I just came in here for a refill," Spencer says pointing at her empty glass.

I make sure to fill both of our glasses before I command with as much sternness as I have, "You need to get out of here. You may not be a disaster, but you are a distraction!"

Spencer shakes her head and walks her hot ass out of my kitchen without a fight, leaving me to finish the rest of the meal, which only takes another three minutes. I place the plates on the table and walk into my great room and find it's empty. At the sound of the fall board on my piano being opened, I continue into the living room and see Spencer just sitting frozen at the grand piano. Her eyes are closed, like she's listening intently to a song. Her fingers are in position on either side of middle C. I wonder what she can be thinking right now. She doesn't notice my presence, but lifts her fingertips ever so slightly before she strikes a chord, but her fingers just hover over the ivory in silence.

I'm frozen watching until Spencer heaves a sigh or frustration and opens her eyes to the notebook in front of her, which only has a few words scribbled from me earlier. She jumps as she catches me out of the corner of her eye.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. You just looked like you were composing a song in your head and I didn't want to interrupt that," I offer.

"It's all right. My days of composing are long over," Spencer says and pats the empty spot on the bench next to her.

I slide onto the piano bench next to her and notice she has a hickey, which I hopefully assume is from me and not Aiden. Cautiously, I run my fingers over the purple mark on her neck.

"Sorry about that, too," I tell her with a questioning tone. After all, I'm not certain it's my handiwork.

"It's all right. This might be better than getting an Ashley Davies autograph. If I had a nickel for every time I got a hickey from a rock star, I'd have a nickel," Spencer retorts.

"We need to get you some more nickels," I recommend with an authoritative nod.

I'm just ecstatic it is from me and not Aiden. We sit in silence for a moment and Spencer just rests her fingers on the notebook and the words on the page in front of her. All it says is:

Blue eyes?

Knowing I'm completely exposed and not ready to admit that I'm already thinking about a song for her, I prod, "I didn't know that you played piano. You never mentioned it before."

Spencer takes her fingers from the notebook and links them with mine.

"I know. I haven't mentioned a lot of things and that wasn't fair to you. I want to tell you what I haven't been able to tell you. But you need to know. Are you ready for this?" Spencer asks with trepidation.

Although I have no idea what she means, I brace myself and respond, "Yeah, I'm always ready."

"I started playing piano when I was five. Played all the way through until sophomore year of high school. I was even considering going to the Oberlin Conservatory of Music. Then at the beginning of my sophomore year, I had a chance to audition for this elite after school program. My dad was my biggest supporter and he promised to pick me up from school and take me to the audition. He also happened to be an amazing social worker who was dedicated to his job. The afternoon of the audition, he called to tell me he was called on an emergency case and wouldn't be able to take me. He said he would try to make it after he finished up. It wasn't the first time he had missed something important to me, but this was the most important thing in my pathetic world and I wanted his support. I was so upset that he was going to miss this opportunity and I accused him of thinking his job was more important than me."

Spencer pauses and she isn't crying, but she's clearly upset about what she remembers from her past. Her voice is shaky when she continues, "I told him not to bother coming. His emergency case was a meeting with this teenager who had ties with a gang, who just got released from Juvenile Detention for assaulting a rival gang member. Later that afternoon, when my dad walked this teenager out of the office, the rival gang was waiting and they wanted revenge. They shot him and they shot my father too."

The weight of her story hangs heavily on my heart. The words in my head are tangled up in a web of my interactions with Spencer and so many things are starting to make sense.

Spencer runs her index finger over my knuckle and adds, "By the time I got to the hospital, my dad was in surgery. He was in surgery for about two hours, but his injuries were too severe and the doctors couldn't save him. He died that afternoon and I haven't been able to play since."

"Spence," I begin.

I don't have anything more to say, so I just pull her into my arms and hope my embrace can say all of the things I can't even begin to try to say.

Spencer POV:

Ashley's arms around me make me confident that I'm finally doing the right thing. There's so much more that I need to tell her, that I need to explain to her. I pull back from her and look into her chocolate eyes and all I can see is compassion and the desire to know what else I've been keeping from her. There's something else, like she wants to tell me something, but decides against it.

"You don't have to figure me out, Ash. I'm tired of not letting you in. I've made up my mind and I want to be with you, that is, if you want to be with me," I confide.

Ashley gives a nose crinkling smile directed at me and although the thought of her not returning my proposition frightens me, I can't help but have all kinds of hope when I see that smile. She pulls my hand and presses it to her lips.

"There is nothing I want more than that," she concludes, followed with a moment of hesitation.

I'm worried that she's already to take it back because of my recent hot and cold behavior, but she cuts me off before I can verbalize my insecurities.

"But what about Aiden?" Ashley asks.

I nod in contemplation and reply, "He went out of town, but as soon as he comes back, I'm breaking up with him. I understand if you want to wait until Aiden and I are officially through, but it's always been you that I've wanted Ash. I've just been way to afraid to be with you, but I can't not be with you anymore."

"Are you sure? I know I was hard on you the other day, but this is a life changer for you, Spence," Ashley checks.

I know exactly what she means and there are a lot of consequences I will have to face, but it's more important for me to make this commitment to Ashley and to myself. "I had plenty of time to think about what means the most to me these past few days. What means the most to me is waking up next to you. You mean the most to me, Ash."

With that, Ashley kisses me and rests her forehead against mine. "You mean the most to me, too," Ashley concurs pulls away much to quickly for my liking.

"What's wrong?" I ask as Ashley grabs the book from the stand on the piano and pulls a pen from the spiral.

"Nothing is wrong. You are a genius, Spence," Ashley praises as she writes furiously into her notebook.

After she finishes, Ashley places the notebook on my lap and shares with me the lines of lyrics she has jotted down.

**What means the most to me**

**Is waking up next to you**

**Feel the morning breeze**

**You're my favorite thing**

**And I love coming home**

**To your arms**

**When you kiss me hello**

**It's these simple things**

**That mean the most to me**

"Do you mind?" I ask and hold out my hand for the pen so I can write a few lines of my own.

Ashley grins and says, "Go for it."

She hands over the pen and I put into words how I've been feeling.

**Every time I have to leave**

**I feel like I'm leaving a part of me**

**You're the only place I want to be**

**Well nothing else matters**

**I just lose focus**

**When your not around**

**You're still the only one I notice**

**I can't help the way I feel**

**It doesn't matter if I win or loose**

**Cause what means the most to me**

**Is waking up next to you**

**When you're holding me**

**And have a little time to play**

**In your arms rest you heart**

**Laugh til it gets dark**

**It's these simple things**

**That mean the most to me**

**No more days far away where I miss you**

**No more nights trying to fall asleep without you**

**From now on I'm always going to be there**

**I won't miss another day that we won't share**

**I'll be there**

**Cause you mean the most to me**

**Now that I'm here by your side**

**I won't leave you this time**

"Wow, Spence," Ashley says as she looks over my shoulder.

"It's no good?" I say and go to strike though what I just wrote.

Ashley grabs the pen from my hand with a laugh. "Relax, crazy. It's wonderful. I just can't believe how fast you are writing all of this."

"I'm sorry. I guess I really should be telling you all of this instead of a piece of paper," I admit.

"Spence, is this really how you feel?" Ashley checks.

My bravery is on overdrive and I easily affirm, "It is. I'm not going anywhere this time."

"Good," Ashley declares and pulls me in for a tender kiss. She holds the pen out and offers, "I will give this back if you promise not to cross it all out, deal?"

I take the pen from her and work on the lyrics, while Ashley starts playing a melody on the piano. A few minutes of composing pass between us and Ashley seems to be stuck. In my head, I can hear the chords unfolding into the song, but I don't know if my fingers or my heart are willing to make the music exist outside of my head. I set the notebook on the stand and rest the pen back in the spiral.

I set my hands on the keyboard and hope that I can make this happen. I can hear what Ashley played repeating in my head and I'm sick and tired of holding back. Today is the day for conquering my fears and being honest about everything. Finally, I decide I can do it. My hands are paralyzed, though.

"It's okay, Spence. You don't have to if you don't want to," Ashley says, running her fingers through my hair.

It's soothing and somehow the perfect catalyst for my creativity. I close my eyes and play what she started minutes before. Unwilling fingers can't stop me now and the sound that fills my ears is familiar and I continue on with the song.

Meanwhile, Ashley pulls the notebook off the stand and grabs sheet music from one of the pockets, trying to capture my additions to the song on paper. It takes us about a good half hour, but by then, we have what looks and sounds like a complete song.

We play though our completed version and Ashley starts singing the lyrics. Her voice is better than anything I've heard on the radio. I don't know if it's because she's sitting right next to me or if it's because they are my feelings for her, but I have chills over my entire body.

We finish and I sit in silence waiting for the feeling of awe to slowly leave me, but I can't stop looking at Ashley. My stomach ruins the moment with a hungry growl to fill the silence and I give her a coy smile.

"Is someone hungry?" Ashley asks with a chuckle.

"I'm fine," I return.

Dinner can wait. I don't want to miss out on this experience and I honestly want to hear Ashley sing more. Private concerts are my new favorite thing.

Ashley gets up from the bench and extends out her hand for me. I reluctantly grab hold of her expectant hand and she pulls me close to her.

"I've been a terrible host, making you work for your dinner," she whispers into my ear. "And now it's cold and you will think I am an even worse cook than I really am."

We're not touching, but she's so close I can't help but want her. Unable to resist the feeling of her against me, I pull her flush to my body. The sounds of her sigh fill my ears as our bodies connect.

"Ashley, you could have dog food on that plate and tonight would still be the best dinner date I ever had," I assure her.

She laughs and rests her forearms on my shoulders. "Dog food, huh? And all this time I've been planning to impress you with Dean and Deluca."

"Shut up," I purr and decide the best way to make that happen is to occupy her lips with mine. Dinner is already cold, so there's no point in hurrying. My growling stomach could also stand to shut up for a few minutes while I relish the taste of her lips and the warmth of her mouth on mine.

I rest my head against hers and add, "Thank you."

Those two words seem so insignificant when I want to express so much to her and what she has done fore me. They are all I have and I hope the meaning isn't lost in it's simplicity.

Ashley pulls away and looks me square in the eyes. "I didn't do anything, Spencer. You just needed to be ready."

Modesty really suits her, maybe even better than her cockiness. I still feel like there is more to tell her, but Ashley draws me in for another kiss, making me doubt anything else outside of us in this moment could possibly matter.


	16. Cereal Will Never Be the Same Again

A/N: It's going to be M-ish in rating this chapter.

Spencer POV:

Tonight, I'm spending my Saturday night at some nightclub that has drinks that cost more than some of my textbooks. It's a good thing I'm partying as Ashley's VIP and she's taking care of me. And by taking care of me, I mean driving me insane. The martini's here are delicious, but they have got nothing on Ashley's lips, which I can't help myself from finding on a regular basis tonight. Right now, Ashley is going to get me another martini and I'm not objecting.

Ever since I went over for dinner this week, I can't get enough of her. I let her in a little and it's been worth it. Every minute we spend together is better than the last. It makes me wonder why it took me so damn long to just be with her.

While Ashley is getting our drinks, I check my phone and see a missed call and a text from Aiden. Without responding to either, I drop my phone back in my purse and check my cleavage. I'm wearing a low cut dress that Ashley insisted I borrow. Some drunk brunette bimbo slides into the couch next to me. She reminds me of the girls by idiot brother usually dated during high school. Gorgeous, but borderline trashy.

"You're here with Ashley Davies, right?" she asks.

Wonder what gave it away? Was it the fact that Ashley and I have been making out in this corner all night long. Or was it when we were grinding on the dance floor?

"Yeah," I give her, hoping that will be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

"Do you think you might want an extra tonight?" she asks with a seductive smile.

"Extra?" I repeat.

"In the bedroom," the brunette clarifies.

"Uh no. I don't think so. We haven't even…" I start stammering in shock, but realize there is no reason to give this skank any of the details. Believe it or not, but I don't normally have to turn down threesome requests from nameless strangers on the regular.

"Holy shit. You haven't slept with her!" she exclaims.

Thankfully, the bass of the music is enough to cover up her outburst. She senses my annoyance and places a hand over her mouth. Knowing she's been a little loud, she leans over and whispers, "If you don't tap that, you are crazy. I hear she has a lucky charms pussy."

"Excuse me?" I question.

The music in the club is loud, but did she really just use the phrase lucky charms pussy? I don't believe I've seen that one on urban dictionary. The brunette leans closer and rests her hand on my leg.

"You know, it's magically delicious," the drunken girl elaborates.

I try to remove her hands from my leg, which are starting to wander way close to my own lucky charm, but she keeps her fingers linked with mine. Finally, I completely free my hand from hers just in time. Ashley wanders our way with a drink in her hand. In my head, all I see hearts, stars, balloons just cascading from her crotch. Like a deer caught in headlights, I can't look away or do anything.

Finally, I am pulled from my trance and give Ashley a smile as she nears us. I see her looking at me and my new drunk BFF who is way too close to me right now and her hand is back on my leg. This can't look good. Ashley sets the drink on the table in front of me and takes a sip of her own.

"I can't leave you alone for a second, can I?" Ashley directs at me with a grin.

"Don't worry, she's in good hands," the brunette purrs. "I was just trying to convince her how good."

The drunk girl gets up and begins to touch Ashley inappropriately. In my head I wonder if she knows about the lucky charms being magically delicious from first hand experience. I hate even the thought of Ashley with anyone else and the sight of this girl working on Ashley right in front of me is unbearable. I don't have a right to be jealous. After all, I'm technically still dating Aiden, but now I know how Ashley must have felt.

Eventually the girl gets a hint and sulks away with a pout on her face. Ashley straddles me on the couch and begins to kiss my neck and whisper in my ear. "My new friend over there informed me that my girlfriend didn't want to have a threesome tonight."

I want to laugh, but Ashley's tongue is currently circling patterns around my neck and I can't think, let alone laugh. My hands do manage to wrap around Ashley's waist and keep her close by for more of this.

"Ugh, is it wrong that I kinda wanted to bitch slap her when I saw her touching you? I'm sorry if that's what you felt with me and Aiden. I never wanted to put you through that," I babble.

"It's okay, Spence. And for the record you are so hot when you are jealous. I was almost tempted to flirt back just to see the look on your face," Ashley teases.

"It's a good thing you didn't," I warn, giving her the best Jealous-I-Mean-Business stare I can.

Ashley grinds into my hips and I let out a whimper which she quickly covers with her lips. "Sooo hot," Ashley mumbles between kisses. She grinds into me again and this time and even louder moan slips from my lips. If it were possible to have an orgasm just from how badly you wanted someone, I'd be screaming her name so loud, I'd be breaking every piece of glass in this club.

Ashley pulls away and replies, "If looks could kill, that poor girl would be at the morgue right now. I told her she better leave better leave before my girlfriend has to use her killer right hook. That seemed to clear her out pretty fast."

Wait a sec, did Ashley just say girlfriend?

"Did you just say girlfriend?" I ask with a gigantic smile on my face.

"Yeah, I guess I did. And it didn't even freak me out. Did it freak you out?" Ashley asks nervously.

"No, not at all," I reply as I shake my head.

"But, I guess we should officially wait until all of this is over, huh?" Ashley checks. I know what she means by all of this. She basically means breaking up with Aiden and me coming clean with my mother.

"Yeah," I agree. "I can't wait until I get to call you my girlfriend."

It's the truth and it feels so fucking good to say it out loud. Almost as good as Ashley's lips traveling slowly down my neck.

"You know I used to seriously dislike that girl when she was hitting on me. Then, I really hated her when she starting hitting on you. But I think that she turned out to be a very useful source of information tonight," I mumble.

"What?" Ashley asks as she pulls herself away from my neck, allowing me to think a coherent thought for the first time in three minutes.

"Our new friend over there also just told me that my girlfriend has a lucky charms pussy," I inform Ashley.

She stops kissing my neck and I whimper like a puppy. At least to make up for it, there's an adorable confused smile on her face.

"What does that mean? I promise you there's no creepy leprechauns lurking down there looking for a pot o' gold," Ashley says with a chuckle.

Martini's are starting to kick in and I respond, "Well there's only one way to find out."

Ashley POV:

Spencer is officially drunk. She can't stop talking about my magically delicious pussy. Usually, I hate the p-word, but hearing it from Spencer's mouth turned it into a whole new level of hotness. While I am loving every second of it, including all of the making out and teasing that doesn't stop, I'm extremely mad at myself about tonight. It's just another opportunity to come clean with her that I've wasted by getting her wasted. On the plus side, her liquid courage is infused with a whole lot of liquid horniness.

Love You Like a Love Song comes on and Spencer squeels, "Oh I love this song!"

"Really? Selena Gomez?" I check with a disapproving tone.

"Yes, come on. Let's dance!" Spencer commands and forces me off of her lap and onto the dance floor. She draws me near, her hips moving in perfect rhythm with mine. I will not think about sex, I will not think about sex. I am soooo thinking about sex with Spencer. To my surprise begins to sing along with the lyrics and her melodic voice stops me from my naughty thoughts. I never heard her sing, but Spencer is not half bad. In fact, she might be better than some of my competition out there right now.

**There's no way to describe what you do to me**

**You just do to me what you do**

**And it feels like I've been rescued**

**I've been set free**

She stops singing and adds, "You set me free, Ash."

I was never a big fan of this song, but I think I might just want to hit re-pe-pe-pe-pe-peat on it now. Not to mention, I can feel Spencer's hands roaming all over my back and I lean in to kiss her. She doesn't even know it, but in a way she set me free, too.

The warmth of her body is rapidly increasing and my desire is building the more we dance. We lose all track of time and it's almost two a.m. I call us a cab and we walk outside of the club when I get a call telling me it has arrived.

Spencer and I are walking hand in hand on the sidewalk in front of the club, when a paparazzo calls out my name and snaps a photo of us. I grab her and try to get her into the cab as quickly as possible as we drive off to my place after I hurriedly shout the address to the cab driver.

"Son of a bitch!" I exclaim, looking back at the flash bulbs popping.

"Tis' okaaaay," Spencer slurrs. "So we were holding hands. BIG DEAAAL. Girls do it all the time. I hold hands with Chelsea and it doesn't mean I want to fuck her."

I can't help but laugh at Spencer's logic. It was the perfect thing to say to get me over the celebrity tantrum that was brewing inside of me. Plus, my moments of clarity are few and far between since Spencer isn't the only one feeling the effects of the alcohol consumed tonight.

"Oh yeah, does that mean you don't want to fuck me either?" I tease.

Spencer lets out a giggle and before I know it, she's straddling me in the backseat of this cab. Her lips are affixed to my neck only momentarily so she can tell me, "There are a lot of things I want to do to you, Ash."

I bite my bottom lip at the sound of her voice in my ear. Self control has never been by strong suit and I've never wanted anyone like I've wanted Spencer. Not just sexually, but every way possible. Right now, sexually is quickly climbing to the top of the list, though.

She grinds down on me and now I know exactly why she was moaning earlier as I let one out of my own. A car honks and the cab jerks violently back into what I can assume is the lane we are supposed to be in. I grab Spencer, so she doesn't slide into the window and it just results in her pressing harder into my body.

The cab driver's eyes are quickly bouncing from the road to the rear view. There's no way this pervert is getting a free show, but Spencer's body feels so perfect against mine, I have a hard time looking pissed off convincingly.

Spencer bites on my ear playfully and whispers, "Back to the list of things I want to do to you. First, I want to make you so wet."

Mission accomplished already, Spencer. She follows up her statement by trailing kisses down my neck to my shoulder blade. I feel her breath hot on my ear as she continues, "Then, I want to explore every inch of your body."

Her hands begin to wander to my inner thigh. Her fingers are eager, but gentle as she slowly traces them towards my center. I am so glad I'm wearing a dress right now. Easy access comes at a price as her fingers stroke the outside of my panties and I try my best to stifle the sounds of pleasure threatening to escape my mouth.

Spencer continues with her list, "But more than anything, I want to make you come harder than you ever have in your entire life."

I throw my head back all the way into the head rest, just letting my mind run loose with that exact scenario. Meanwhile, Spencer continues to tease me with her steady touch and I realize I have a wish list of my own for her.

I take my free hand and move it under her dress so I can start my own trail leading to her center. Before I reach the apex of her legs, I can feel her wetness and I realize she's not wearing any underwear. Knowing I have to stop myself before there is dirty taxicab sex happening, I retract my hand and Spencer lets out a lusty whine.

"Sorry, Spence. I want wall of those things and I want to do all of those things to you, too. But this isn't necessarily the way I want it to happen," I explain.

Wow, I don't even recognize this version of myself. Will the real Ashley Davies please raise her hand? Who just said that, because it sure as hell didn't come out of my mouth, did it? But, it was most definitely me who made that suggestion. I'm pretty sure I've probably already had dirty taxicab sex in my sordid history, but Spencer deserves so much better than that.

Spencer must agree with my suggestion, because she slowly lowers her hand from it's precarious position and we stare into each others eyes, knowing exactly how badly we want each other.

Her lips hungrily find my anticipating mouth and we are vigorously trying to do with our tongues what we really want to be doing with our hands. The sound of the cab driver clearing his throat breaks us from what I feel is the worlds best make out session. Any make out session involving Spencer is worlds best, though.

Spencer dismounts me and I search through my purse for the fare. The cab ride was only fifty, but I figure a little hush money never hurt anyone and give him $200 and say, "Thanks for your, um, discretion."

The cab driver gives me a knowing smile and a nod, while Spencer exits the cab. Once she's out, Spencer offers her hand to assist me out of the car. As I exit, I notice the windows are fogged from our sultry cab ride, except for a little spot where Spencer drew with her finger Ash + Spence inside of a heart.


End file.
